Book 29 - We Won't Get Fooled Again
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: VIOLENCE AND ADULT CONTENT. The election in Heaven is about to happen, and things are about to change in Heaven in a big way. Everyone will be affected by what's going on there, sometimes, in unexpected ways. Secrets are revealed as the question is answered: Who is God, and what is his or her mission?
1. The Love Of Power, And The Power of Love

Chapter 1 - The Love Of Power, And The Power Of Love

"Shouldn't you be sitting in a swivel chair, petting a white cat?" Gail quipped.

Crowley barked a short laugh. "Don't make me laugh, sweetheart. You'll ruin my black hearted reputation."

"What are YOU doing here?" Castiel said angrily. Didn't they have enough problems right now?

"Let's all sit down and talk, like civilized people," Crowley said, ignoring him. He gestured to the chairs at the boardroom table. Then he looked at Patricia. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said to her. "I'm Crowley. King of Hell. You look like the corporate type. I'd give you a business card, but the new design is being printed at the moment. Still, I have heard that you are, shall we say, a believer in the traditional ways. So, please," he continued, pulling a chair out for her. "Have a seat."

Patricia looked at him disbelievingly. Then she looked at Cas. "Why are you just standing there?" she berated him. "Take your blade out and kill him!"

Gail chuffed out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, sure! Suddenly you WANT Cas to take his blade out! You're such a hypocrite, Patricia! Aren't you afraid Cas will get carried away by the smell of blood and kill you, too? Sit your ass down!"

Crowley looked at the women, smirking. "Well, well. What do we have, here? I believe they call this a cat fight. Should I alert Moose and Squirrel, and tell them to bring the popcorn?" He waved his finger, and Patricia sat down with a plop in the chair he had pulled out for her. "Sorry, dear lady, but I'd like to move this along," he told her, with some humour.

The other three glanced at each other, sighing. They took their seats.

"I take it from your glum expressions that today's debate wasn't exactly all puppies and rainbows," Crowley said dryly. "Still, the day's not over, yet. I don't suppose Heaven celebrates Hallowe'en. But, where I come from, we're kind of partial to it. So, now that I've played my trick on all of you, I'm here for my treat."

"What are you babbling about?" Cas said irritably.

Crowley ignored him again, focusing instead on Patricia. So, this was the woman who Lucifer had violated. She looked none the worse for wear, though. In fact, out of the four of them, she was the one who looked the most put together at the moment. Crowley didn't know anything about the woman, but he could intuit what had happened here today. She had done some digging, and she had turned up some bones. Crowley himself was privy to nearly all of their secrets, so he knew that there was definitely gold in them thar hills, as Bobby's Appalachian ancestors might have been wont to say.

"It looks as if this party could use a happy hour," Crowley remarked casually. He snapped his fingers, and a decanter of whiskey appeared on the boardroom table, along with five glasses. He waved his finger, and one glass slid to each place.

Crowley looked at Patricia. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what your preference was. This seemed to be the most generic choice." She was staring at him with a mixture of disgust and terror on her face. The King wasn't oblivious to that fact, but that was the way that most people looked at him, and he was attempting diplomacy with his appearance here today. "What is your name, dear lady?" Crowley asked Patricia, with all the courtliness he could muster.

But she said nothing still, so Bobby answered instead: "Patricia." She threw him a quick glare, but Bobby had ceased to care. After the stunt she had pulled earlier, let her be the one to squirm for a while.

"Patricia. A very fine name," Crowley said heartily. "Have a drink, Patricia."

She continued to stare at him wordlessly, so, after a moment, Crowley's eyes fell on Bobby. "How about you? I'm sure you'd like a snort, Bobby," the King said, affecting a Southern accent.

Bobby scowled. He'd love to, actually, but after what Patricia had said about him earlier, he figured he'd better not. "Pass," he said tersely.

Crowley looked at Castiel, opened his mouth, then shut it again. His Brother had that dark expression on his face that suggested he was contemplating new and creative ways of killing the King of Hell. Crowley was more than familiar with that look, too.

Then, Crowley looked at Gail. She was usually good for one, or three. She was currently glaring daggers at Patricia. Interesting. Here the King of Hell was, sitting in Gail's own boardroom seat in Heaven, yet it was Patricia who Gail was looking at with loathing.

"How about you, sweetheart?" he asked her. "Will you partake?"

"Got any ginger ale?" she asked flippantly.

Crowley smirked, waving his hand. A bottle of ginger ale appeared in front of her. "Your wish is my command," he said.

Gail paused. Should she really be contemplating having a drink with the King of Hell in Heaven's boardroom? Then again, look at the kind of day she had just had. And it wasn't as if she had to worry about her reputation here any longer. So she rose from her chair, reaching for the decanter and making herself a drink. Then she sat back in her chair, taking a big gulp as Crowley lifted his own glass in salute.

Patricia made a "tsk"-ing sound that reminded Gail of the Heavenly Hostesses, and she rolled her eyes. "Problem, Patricia?" Gail asked.

"You're behaving like common gutter trash," Patricia snapped.

"Wow. Why don't you tell me how you really feel, Patricia?" Gail said sarcastically. "You're not performing for an audience any more, and none of us are required to listen to you here. So why don't you just shut up? Nobody here cares what you have to say."

Crowley was extremely amused now. He hadn't expected to be this entertained here today. "Now, now, to be fair, that's not necessarily true," he said to Gail. "While that is a very fetching dress you have on, Patricia and her power suit just scream 'corporate'. So, Patricia, let me ask your advice. I've been restocking Hell with fresh souls, and now, I'm looking to do some rebranding. I've been attempting to write a Mission Statement, but it's so difficult. As you might imagine, Hell is what we in the Marketing game call a 'hard sell'."

Gail had taken another gulp of her drink, and she swore that she could already feel it going straight to her head. So she quipped, "'Hell: Come for the toil, stay for the torture.'"

Crowley's lips twitched furiously. "You really are going to have to stop being so funny, or you're going to make me lose my fearsome reputation." He looked at Patricia again. "You see, the trouble with rebranding is that people are resistant to change. So, I've had to literally re-brand the people who weren't buying into the program. You know: Ssssss." He made a hissing noise, gesturing.

"Why are you here?" Patricia blurted out. "And how did you get in? Who invited you?"

"No one had to invite me," Crowley said airily. He took a sip of his drink. "As one of the members of the Original Family, I can come here any time I want. I just choose not to. Although I've got to say, ever since Castiel and Gail's wedding night, it's a lot more aesthetically pleasing these days."

Gail rolled her eyes. That was all she needed; another example of her sex life for Patricia to be reminded of. But then, she thought about it some more. She was no longer a candidate, so who cared, really?

"To answer your first question, I'm here on a diplomatic quest," Crowley went on. "Since one of you will be occupying the High Office soon, I thought I would reach out, to find out what all of your philosophies are, vis-a-vis the relationship between our two domains."

"I don't know why you would have to barge in here to do that," Bobby said irascibly. "We're Heaven, you're Hell. We're good, you're bad. All that fancy talk isn't necessary. Things will remain status quo if I'm back in the Office. There. There's some Latin for ya."

Crowley smiled. Bobby. He could always be relied on to boil it down to the bare essentials. Heaven, good. Hell, bad. That was how Bobby saw things, in black and white. But, Hell wasn't black, and Heaven wasn't white any more, was it?

Crowley looked at Cas, sighing. "I don't know if I should even ask YOU. I've heard about that little Academy you've got going. How many soldiers have you trained, and when can I expect them? They say an Army marches on its stomach; I could put out a nice buffet. Lots of flambe, of course."

Gail laughed, and Patricia looked at her, horrified. It was bad enough that the little strumpet was drinking with Crowley, but now she was laughing at his poor excuse for humour, too. It made Patricia sick. This was worse than she had feared. She looked at Castiel. Why didn't he do something? Was it because Crowley was his brother? Or, and this thought was much, much worse, was it because Castiel's wife and Crowley seemed to get along so well? Exactly how much would Castiel be willing to overlook on his wife's behalf?

"I won't be sending any Angels to Hell," Cas told Crowley. "That is, not unless you give me a reason to."

"And what exactly would you consider a reason?" Crowley asked him coolly.

Cas gave him a crooked smile. "Why don't we just leave that a mystery for now?"

Crowley took another sip of his drink, considering what Castiel had just said. He wasn't sure what to make of that response, nor of his Brother's expression. Castiel had that shark-like glint in his eyes now.

Patricia had been looking at the three of them interacting with Crowley, and she was suddenly reminded of a play she had read recently. In order to stop harming herself during the campaign, she had to keep her mind occupied. So she had been visiting the library and checking out classic works of literature to read. She had just finished reading Antony and Cleopatra, and she realized now that Castiel and Gail weren't Bonnie and Clyde, nor were they Romeo and Juliet, although at times they represented themselves as such, probably to garner sympathy from people. But, they were neither of these. They were Antony and Cleopatra.

Antony had been a fierce and feared soldier once, who had neglected his duties to carry on a highly visible love affair with Cleopatra. Oh, why hadn't Patricia thought of this before? She could have used the analogy at the debate. It was a perfect illustration of the couple, and a glaring condemnation of their flaws. Antony had been torn between his sense of duty, and his desire to seek pleasure. Torn between reason, and passion. Cleopatra had once seduced Julius Caesar, who could be represented by Crowley in this situation. Gail had stood up in front of all of Heaven earlier today and alleged that she had only ever had relations with her husband, but all they had was her word for it. Patricia remembered that, back at the time of the tribunal, Xavier had elicited the information that Gail had once briefly been in Crowley's service. She had claimed that it had been against her will, but the two of them were certainly acting very chummy right now, weren't they?

In the play, Cleopatra had delighted in the fact that she had caught Antony, just like a prize fish. That could very well describe Gail, too. In just a few short years, Gail had come out of nowhere to become a contender for the High Office, because she had landed the biggest and most powerful fish that Heaven had had to offer at the time. Cleopatra had seemed to favour drama, and her expressions were often theatrical. Look at all of the things Castiel and Gail had been involved in, ever since Gail had gotten here. Just look at what had happened at the debate. Now Patricia was wondering if Gail had knocked her notes to the floor on purpose, not only to evoke sympathy from the audience, but also from Castiel. That had certainly been a top-notch performance, hadn't it?

Cleopatra had genuinely loved Antony, even though her loyalty had sometimes been misplaced. For, as flawed as Gail was, Castiel was even more so. Perhaps that was why they had attached themselves to each other so tightly, at times to the exclusion of others. Gail obviously represented to Castiel all of the qualities that Angels had been denied under the ancient laws: enjoyment, playfulness, sexuality, and passion. Of course Castiel would be drawn to those things, like a moth to a flame. He was an Angel, but he was also a man. What man didn't lose his mind when a woman opened her legs willingly to him? Of course, then again, if the man was Lucifer, he didn't even care if the woman was willing. Not that Patricia was calling Castiel Lucifer, of course. Even though she felt absolutely no respect for Castiel, Patricia knew that he was not the sort of man who would force himself on a female. But then again, why would he have to, when Gail was offering her modesty up to him so freely?

On second thought, perhaps Crowley represented Octavius from the play, the man who placed political expediency over family loyalty. Like Octavius, Crowley had begun his career as one of the lowly. A rank-and-file Demon. But he had been ruthlessly ambitious on his way to the throne. It would appear that nothing existed for him now except for the single-minded goal of maintaining the power he already had, and making sure his Kingdom thrived. Octavius had been the antithesis of Antony, just as Crowley was the antithesis of Castiel. At one point, when Castiel had been a warrior, it had seemed as if his hunger for power would continue unchecked. But then, he had become involved with the Winchesters, and then with Gail, and his hunger for love had started to outweigh his hunger for power. That must be why Castiel surrounded himself with so many acolytes.

Crowley, on the other hand, had no friends, nor would a man like him want any. He and Castiel would never be able to completely trust each other, even when they were erstwhile allies. But, just as Crowley was a necessary counterpoint to whomever ended up occupying the High Office, Octavius had been vital to that play. Without him, Antony and Cleopatra would not have been perceived nearly as virtuous as they were, in Patricia's opinion.

And the parallels didn't end there. Antony and Octavius were descended from an ancient and highly regarded Roman family; Castiel and Crowley had been members of God's First Family. From what Patricia remembered of the play, Antony had been a rather shiftless individual when he had been younger, but he had also been generous in nature, with an easygoing personality. That didn't seem to describe the Castiel that Patricia was familiar with, but perhaps his time in the military had hardened him. So he had risen through the ranks, by fair and by foul means. But then God had seen fit to deploy Castiel to Hell to pull Dean Winchester out, and that had been a game-changer for the Angel. Heaven had been white and sterile, and the Angels had all followed orders unquestioningly. By contrast, Earth sparkled with colour, and sensuality. It was a feast for the senses. Even Patricia had seen the potential allure when she'd made her brief visits there. But Castiel had fallen head over heels with the pleasures of Earthly living, and then, when he had met Gail, she had been the last piece of the puzzle.

In the play, Antony was sometimes troubled because he was torn between his love and his duty. His impulsiveness, and his hesitance to make decisions, because they might be the wrong ones, made the character appear weak, but he was not nearly as weak as he might seem, in Patricia's opinion. She wondered if Castiel was the same way. It was unfortunate that she didn't know his personality better, in a way. Of course, that hadn't stopped Patricia from making up all kinds of wild insinuations about him, had it? But it seemed to her that Castiel had a strange sort of dichotomy about him. He appeared to her to be both insecure and overconfident, at the same time. Odd.

Bobby represented the character of Lepidus, the older individual who served as the balance between Octavius and Antony, because neither of them considered him a real threat to them. Both Castiel and Crowley were able to dominate them in their own way, because they outranked Bobby, both in powers, and in God's hierarchy.

And Dean Winchester was the real-life representation of the character of Enobarbus in the play. Enobarbus was Antony's most devoted friend. In fact, he was so loyal that he often took Antony's part when no one else would. He had felt free to say anything to Antony, including the harshest of criticisms, even though Antony could have given the order to have him slain at any time. There were also eerie parallels between those men's relationship in the play, and Castiel and Dean's relationship in real life. Castiel could technically obliterate Dean with a wave of his hand, if he so chose. Yet, Enobarbus was the voice of reason whenever Antony's sense of reason had deserted him, and Dean Winchester pretty much served that same function for Castiel, as far as Patricia could tell. Perhaps that was why Castiel kept him around. Although the Angel professed his love for his human friend, Patricia had a hard time seeing it, herself. Humans were like pets, in her opinion. But some people were blinded by their love for their pets too, weren't they?

With some alarm, Patricia realized that they were all looking at her now. Had she spoken aloud, perhaps? She was aware that she did that sometimes, though she was trying her best to control it. Everyone woolgathered from time to time, but only crazy people talked out loud to themselves.

"Are you all right, dear lady?" Crowley asked Patricia with amusement.

"What? Yes. Why?" she said, shaking herself out of her reverie.

"Because you were saying something about how Antony was blinded by his passion for Cleopatra," Crowley said, smirking.

"Oh, I loved that play," Gail piped up. She had finished her first drink, and was now well into her second one. Bobby was looking at her curiously, but he said nothing. After the kind of day that she and Cas had just had at Patricia's hands, Gail was certainly entitled to blow off a little steam, in his opinion. And she had resigned from the campaign anyway, so did it really matter?

"'Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love'," Cas quoted aloud. All heads swiveled to look at him now. Gail smiled. She loved it when Cas quoted Shakespeare. He didn't do that nearly enough, in her opinion. Although this probably wasn't the most optimal time and place for it, either. She would have to ask him to repeat that, when the two of them were alone together.

Crowley ignored Cas. He started to wonder if all of these Angels weren't currently off their nut. Must have been a hard day at the office. "I was asking you, Patricia, what you feel the relationship between our realms would be if you were to attain the High Office? I must confess that I know nothing about you, personally. Therefore, I'm simply attempting to suss out what form your leadership might take," the King said.

Patricia was indignant. "Of course you know nothing about me personally! How dare you! We will have no type of relationship! Absolutely none. If I am elected, we will go about our business, and you can go about yours. But don't presume to know me, or try to act familiar with me. You may share some kind of unholy symbiosis with your brother and his wife, or even with Bobby, but you don't with me, and you never will. You men are all alike. You think you can just barge in here, and make us bend to your will. Well, you can forget it."

Crowley looked at her incredulously. That had been a bit more rant-y than he'd been expecting. He was starting to get the feeling that it was Patricia who was batcrap crazy, and the others were simply reacting to her particular affliction. On the other hand, she was saying what he wanted to hear. If she wanted to sit back in her ivory tower and pretend that he and his denizens didn't exist, that was just fine with him.

Crowley looked at Gail. "And you, sweetheart? What say you?"

"I say you don't need to worry about what I think," she responded, shrugging. "I'm no longer a candidate."

Crowley was genuinely surprised. "Really?" he said. "When did that happen? And, more importantly, WHY did it happen?" Secretly, a part of him had been pulling for Gail. He would certainly have enjoyed the Summit meetings a lot more. If they could ditch her sourpuss of a husband, that was. Castiel appeared to be flexing his blade hand now.

"Ask Patricia," Gail said tartly. "She seems to think that the job would interfere with my very promising career in the field of prostitution."

For a moment, Crowley was absolutely flummoxed. He had to hand it to Gail. It wasn't very often that anyone made him feel that way. But then, he put his mind to it, as one would work out a math problem. Gail never spoke in non sequiturs; rather, her comments were normally designed to hit the centre of the dartboard. Suddenly, Crowley's mind's eye could picture exactly how today's leadership debate had gone. Bobby had been both folksy and straightforward, while Patricia had gone into character assassination mode, skewering Castiel and Gail by referring to Castiel's less-than-stellar record during the Angel Wars. Then the woman had moved on to Gail, making snide remarks about Gail's virtue. Castiel would have stoically borne the insults that Patricia had hurled at him, but once she'd turned her venom on his wife, Castiel would have had a dilemma. He could hardly have used his usual go-to, not in front of all of Heaven. His go-to was usually anger, and threats, at the bare minimum. But if Castiel hoped to project a kinder, more benevolent persona to Heaven, which it would appear that he did, then he could hardly have stood there in that very public forum and threated to run a fellow candidate through with his blade, could he? So, he would have to have withstood Patricia calling his sainted wife a trollop in front of all of Heaven. But Gail would have felt no such compunctions. She had probably unleashed her tart tongue on Patricia, and then thought better of it, realizing that her animosity would likely reflect badly upon her husband. So then, rather than risk a repeat, Gail had metaphorically fallen on her own Angel blade and resigned from her own campaign in order to save her husband's.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Crowley said to Gail. "I was looking forward to the most entertaining Summit meetings I've ever had."

"Since you're so full of questions, I've got one for you," Gail said, waving her drink in her hand. Crowley smirked. The Angel Gail was tipsy. This was hilarious. Oh, the fun they could have had.

"Yes?" Crowley said pleasantly.

"What do you know about my father?" she asked him bluntly.

She'd gotten him again. Her question was so out of the blue that Crowley's mouth fell open, but no words came out.

"Maybe this isn't the best moment to bring that up," Bobby ventured, and Gail looked at him. "You're probably right, but I know he knows something that he's not telling me, and I'm fed up with it," she said irritably.

Crowley had regained his equilibrium now, and he looked at Gail coolly. "Allow me to quote from that book you Angels seem to put so much stock in: 'You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and he has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him'."

They all stared at him for a moment, and then Patricia said, "I don't know how you have the nerve to sit there and quote the Bible to us. You, of all people!"

Crowley shrugged. "I don't know why everyone is so surprised whenever I quote from the Bible. I'm in it, you know. In the First Act, too. That's when they introduce all the really important characters."

Gail was angry now, but she was also afraid. "'Your will is to do your father's desires'?" she repeated. "What the hell kind of crack is that? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll find out," Crowley said enigmatically. "Let that be a lesson to you: never ask the question, if you don't want the answer."

"But you didn't GIVE me an answer!" she wailed. "I know you're sitting in Heaven right now, but you're the last person I expected to give me an Angel type of answer."

Crowley gave her an insincere smile. "What can I say? I assimilate easily. You have to develop a thicker skin, sweetheart. You'll need it, if you hope to stand up to that father of yours. I'm the King of Hell, but I have to admit, he frightens me a little bit."

Gail saw red. She grabbed her drink and stood from her chair. "Maybe YOU need to develop a thicker skin!" she shouted at Crowley. "That way, when Cas stabs you with his blade, it won't hurt as much!" She leaned forward and threw her drink in Crowley's face.

He spluttered, blinking his eyes. He hadn't seen THAT coming, either. But he was smirking, nonetheless. Gail. She was one of a kind. If any of his subjects had tried that, they would be boiled in oil for weeks. But she was just too much of a good time for him to harm. He took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his face with it.

"You need to leave, now," Cas said to Crowley in his quiet voice. "My blade doesn't care how thick your skin is. I've had a very trying day. Do not test me."

Crowley took his time with the handkerchief. He'd been considering telling them what Lucifer had said about what he'd done to Patricia. That little fact may or may not have changed the dynamic between the four Angels. But his Brother was issuing his usual threats, Gail was apparently teetering on the brink of hysteria, and Patricia had pretty much told Crowley what he'd wanted to hear. What did Crowley care? Let them find out for themselves how crazy Patricia was. If she was able to be a thorn in Castiel's side in the meantime, so much the better.

"Good luck in your election," Crowley said, but it was unclear who he was talking to. Maybe he was simply talking to Heaven, in general. Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Sam was reading the newly-acquired journal pages in their motel room as Dean flipped the remote from station to station on the TV. He was doing it half-heartedly, though, because what Sam was telling him was way more interesting than anything that was on TV.

"Yeah. Oliver was Gail's uncle," Sam confirmed aloud. "That's kind of freaky. That one time I took her there, way back when, they didn't seem to get along at all. It was weird."

"OK, so he's her uncle. But, neither of them knew it at the time. Right?" Dean asked.

"Apparently," Sam replied, nodding.

"Yeah, that's weird, all right," Dean agreed. "So, what's the deal with the brothers? We've got Oliver, the crazy guy Andy, who they shipped off to the funny farm, and the psycho, Vincent. What happened after they were kids?"

"Andy spent about a decade in an institution," Sam replied, glancing at the pages. "Then they released him, after giving him some meds. He went back to the house, but there was a new family living there. Then he tracked down Oliver, somehow. Oliver was married by then, and guess who he was married to?"

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Cathy Scanlon," Sam said. Dean looked at him blankly. "Cathy!" Sam said impatiently. "From that so-called fertility clinic!"

"Oh," Dean said. "OK. So, what about Vincent?"

"They didn't know. He'd disappeared," Sam replied. "And it doesn't say what happened to the parents, either." He frowned. "There isn't much here to work with, but there's something about this that's bugging me."

"What's that, Sammy?" Dean asked, taking a swig of his beer.

"When Oliver died, he was a crotchety old guy," Sam remarked.

"So?"

"So, when we went to Cathy's office, we spent a few minutes with her," Sam replied. "So did Jody, and so did Cas and Gail."

"What's your point?" Dean asked him, puzzled.

"She's a youngish woman, Dean," Sam said earnestly. "She looks like she's in her thirties. So unless she's got one hell of a beauty regimen, how could she have been married to Oliver, thirty years ago?"

Dean was startled. He didn't know. "Are you sure that's the same woman, then?" he asked his brother.

"Pretty sure. It's all here. Cathy Scanlon, holistic medicine. Dammit. I wish there was more here. As it is, I'm not gonna bug Gail with this. There's really no new information, and the election is coming up fast."

Dean frowned. He knew. That was the thing that had been bugging him the most. He'd been wanting to pick up the phone so many times and ask Cas how it was going, but they were so close to the big day now that he figured he'd better not. The outcome of that election was way too important to them all to risk distracting Cas now. He got up and got another beer from the mini-fridge.

Cathy's hands were shaking. Vincent had finally shown up with her special drink, and not a moment too soon. Her skin was cracked and wrinkled, her hands were all vein-y, and her hair had turned white.

"Looks like someone forgot to apply moisturizer this morning," Vincent quipped. Cathy reached for the shake eagerly, but Vincent kept it just out of reach. "Have you had any visitors lately?" he asked her.

"None from the list you gave me," she told him. "Please, Vincent. I need my drink."

"Ask me again," he said, smiling.

"Please, Vincent, I'm begging you," Cathy moaned.

"I love it when they beg," he commented. He handed her the beverage. "There was a time when you used to beg me for a lot of things, remember?"

Cathy's stomach churned, but she was too busy sucking on the straw to reply. This had been a little closer than she liked to cut it. But she hadn't dared push Vincent, or he might not show up at all. The more years that passed, the more dependent on his special milkshake she became.

"'My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard'," Vincent sang atonally. "Suck on that straw, Cathy. If you weren't such an old hag, I'd have you suck on something else. Just like the old days."

Cathy finished the drink, putting the cup down on her desk. "You're almost as old as I am," she said mildly.

"Yeah, but I'm gorgeous," Vincent said cheerfully. Then his expression grew serious. "Make sure you do what I want when I want, 'Sis'," he said darkly. "Otherwise, it's bye-bye Youth Shake. Then you'll wither up and die an agonizing, painful death. Up to you."

Cathy frowned. "Don't I always do what you say?" she said, trying not to raise her voice. "Ever since I met you, I've been doing whatever you say. I sacrificed my marriage for you."

"Oh, don't give me that," Vincent scoffed. "You and Oliver wouldn't have lasted, even if I hadn't come along. My humourless, lemon-faced brother? Who the hell would want to wake up to THAT every day? At least I gave you a couple of good sack sessions."

"I wish you'd given me a baby," Cathy grumbled. "Then at least I would have gotten something out of that whole disaster."

Vincent's eyes flashed, and then they turned almost black. "What was that?" he asked her. "What did you just say to me?"

Crap, Cathy thought. She hadn't meant to say that. But she was riding the high from the milkshake now. She didn't know exactly what he put in it, but whenever she drank one, she was so exhilarated for the next hour or so that she felt almost invincible. But she had forgotten herself for a moment. "Nothing," she said hastily. "I said nothing."

"That's what I thought," Vincent said, nodding. He knew how the shake affected her by now, but that was a sore spot for him, and the little bitch knew it, too. Out of all the women he'd taken to bed, she was the only one he hadn't been able to knock up. The only one. She had wanted a kid when she was married to Oliver, but Vincent's brother had told her to forget it. He didn't want some snot-nosed little rug rat running around the house. Even back then, his brother had been a curmudgeon in the making. So one night when Vincent had visited the house and Oliver had been out, Cathy had lamented to Vincent that his brother refused to impregnate her. Vincent had smiled. He could help her with that. She'd been reluctant at first, but he had charmed her, and then he had seduced her. But incredibly, she had not caught pregnant. That had never happened to him before. So he had screwed her several more times, just because he was stubborn that way, but no bun, no oven. That woman had to be the most barren woman in the universe. Pretty much all Vincent had to do to get a woman pregnant was to look at her. He couldn't understand it. But, no matter. He'd moved on from her after Oliver had caught them on the couch at his house that last time. And the hell of it was, Oliver hadn't even seemed surprised. But he had kicked Cathy out, telling her he wanted a divorce. Vincent had actually been impressed by that; it had been the only time in recent memory his brother had shown any balls. But Oliver hadn't chastised Vincent, of course. He had known better than that.

Anyway, the fault obviously lay with Cathy, not with him. Needy bitch. She had probably sucked all the mojo right out of him. She'd thought that she and Vincent would be setting up housekeeping after she'd packed her bags. Yeah, right. He had an army to create, and if Cathy couldn't conceive, she was useless to him. But then he'd realized that she could be of some use to him, after all. When she'd been making all those baby noises, Cathy had mentioned that she wanted to specialize in fertility, to help people achieve their own dreams of having a baby. So he had come up with the idea of bringing her his unwanted progeny. She could sell them off, keeping a healthy cut for herself. It was a win-win. The only condition he'd placed on their agreement was that she'd better not keep any of those babies for herself. If she agreed to his terms, he would bring her a special drink at regular intervals, which would keep her young while everyone else, including Oliver, aged. And wouldn't that be the ultimate middle finger to the guy who had booted her out of his house with only a couple of suitcases filled with clothes to her name?

So Cathy had agreed to his terms, and they had begun their uneasy alliance. Vincent had moved on, impregnating women right and left, as if to prove a point. Then, he had started experimenting. He'd slept with different types of women, just to see what would come out. He'd knocked up Gail's mother, Abigail, just to see what kind of kid they could produce with their unique powers. And even though Abigail had been borderline crazy, the kid they'd produced had turned out pretty good. When Vincent had seen Gail heal her childhood friend Liz that day on the playground, he'd known that he was onto something.

But, human women took nine months to gestate. There had to be a more efficient way. So he had experimented a number of years later by denying himself for a couple of weeks, and then he had made a woman pregnant with twins. He'd only done that once before, centuries ago, when he had travelled back in time. But he didn't bother with time travel any more. Modern times were good enough for him, and his best time was still to come. Anyway, the modern woman that he had put the twins into had had two boys. One had been Robbie, the one with the fairly impressive psychic gift, and the other was Eric, who had been sold separately to a family that currently lived in Jacksonville, Florida. Eric wasn't one bit psychic, but he had recently discovered that he could teleport. He was a teenager now, as was his twin brother Rob, and Eric's little talent came in very handy when he'd wanted to go out past curfew.

Vincent was on the fence about whether it was better to father twins, who only had one ability each in concentrated form, or one child who had multiple abilities, as Gail had been. So he'd tried both flavours. He had also fathered multiple kids with no special abilities at all. But, they would all come when he called, if he called. He'd made sure of that.

"Call me if anyone comes snooping," he snapped. Then he vanished from Cathy's office.

Two days before the election, Gail, Liz and Riley were in Cas's campaign office, checking Riley's spreadsheets.

"Is there any group we haven't reached out to, yet?" Gail was asking Riley now. "Anyone?"

He was running a finger down the list. "I don't see anyone we've missed."

"Holy moly," Liz breathed in astonishment. "I know we don't sleep, but you guys are going to need to take a vacation after this thing is over. I've never seen two people work this hard in my entire life. Whoops, I mean 'existence', I guess." She giggled.

"Cas and I have to thank you guys and the whole team for all of your hard work," Gail commented.

"Yeah, thanks for coming over and helping us, Liz," Riley added.

"Well, when Gail quit, I wanted to help her get Cas elected," Liz said. "It's just too bad Scott couldn't be here, too. You'd think his supervisor could have extended his leave of absence just a couple more weeks, until after the election."

That had been Scott's excuse anyway, and no one had questioned it. There was no way he was going to waste his energy getting that arrogant bastard elected. There would be nothing in it for Scott, nothing at all. Scott was still helping Gail with her job on the board, and the few times Cas had seen Scott around Gail since she'd quit the campaign, Cas had eyed Scott with suspicion, even though the young Angel had been totally respectful. Scott was still on the fence about Gail. He had admired her spirit at the debate, and he had laughed and laughed when she had given Patricia that sass. But Cas was another story. He hadn't even had the good sense to resign from the campaign after Patricia had unmasked him as a racist at the debate. Public sentiment had turned sharply against Castiel after the playing of that tape, and there had been so many Angels coming in and out of Patricia's office requesting transcripts of his tribunal that she'd had staff members working around the clock to provide them. Everything had been coming up Patricia at that point.

But then, a funny thing had happened. Gail, Liz and Riley had all gotten together and drafted an open letter, explaining the context in which Cas had made that disgusting tape and signed that revolting oath. They had posted the letter all over Heaven, sent it around in a mass e-mail, and slipped it under the doors of all the residences, using Chuck's census database as a guide. Then, Gail had gotten a couple of Angels who knew the technology to do a podcast, sending that to everyone's computers, too. In it, she and Cas had appeared together, holding hands and pleading his case. After that, amazingly, Cas's numbers had started to rise again. And this past week before the election, Ethan had volunteered to take over the Academy so that Cas could work 24/7, reaching as many Angels personally as he could. So, even though his poll numbers weren't as robust as they had been before the debate, Castiel had bounced back as far as could be expected.

Cas came walking into the campaign office now, and everyone stopped what they were doing and applauded him. He gave them all a faint smile. They did that every time now, and it both touched him and embarrassed him, at the same time. "Thank you," he said. "And thank you for all of your hard work. Gail and I appreciate each and every one of you, very much." He moved forward and put his arm around Gail, giving her a squeeze.

"We'll have a big party after the election is over, to thank you all properly," Gail added, smiling. "It's too bad we don't eat, but I'll get a boom box, and we can dance. Maybe we'll do karaoke. I might even get a punch bowl, and then spike the punch. It'll be fun."

They all laughed. There were a couple of Angels who had defected from Patricia's campaign after the debate, and Cas's subsequent explanation of the tape, who had been disgusted by Patricia's tactics, and they laughed the hardest at what Gail said. How their former boss would hate that. They were very glad they'd made the move. Everybody was so happy here. They all worked very long hours, but nobody complained, because they all believed in Cas. If all of the Angels in Heaven could only see how he was here in this office, they would never doubt him. He was patient and kind with each and every Angel who worked so tirelessly on his behalf, and his love for his wife was apparent in everything he said and did. Every time he entered the room, his eyes would search for her, and his face would light up when he saw her. Then he would head straight for her, as if he would be unable to breathe until he was by her side, kissing her, or holding her hand.

"I'm here to make an announcement," Cas said to everyone. "I'm requesting all of you to take the rest of the day off."

"What?" Riley exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said," Cas said calmly. "My wife has been working way too hard on my behalf. We even missed our wedding anniversary, because we were both on the campaign trail at that time. It's been bothering me ever since. That was a month ago, and depending upon the way things go here in the next couple of days, I may not get the opportunity to take her on the date I have planned today. Therefore, I'm spiriting her down to Earth for the day, and authorizing all of you to take the rest of the day off. It's not fair for you to work, if we're not working."

"That's sweet, Cas, but I'm going to stay, anyway," Liz said.

"Me, too," Riley said firmly. "But you two go ahead. Relax."

"Are you sure?" Gail asked Cas's young assistant. "I thought you'd be freaking out."

"No. I'm not gonna freak out any more," Riley assured her. "We want Cas to be relaxed and happy. You guys have done everything you could do, and more. Let us take it from here, and we'll see you tomorrow."

Gail smiled at her husband. "I say we run for it, before he changes his mind."

Cas winked the two of them to their house on Earth. "I have a couple of surprises for you," he told her. "First, Frank is hosting a small anniversary party for us, at his and Jody's house. It'll just be them, Rob, and Sam and Dean. Jody didn't want to take Angela anywhere just yet. She's still so small. Apparently, she needs to be fed multiple times a day. So they'll have a small get-together for us there, and then I'm going to take you away for our date."

"That sounds wonderful, Cas," she said happily. "But are you sure you're OK about taking the day off so close to the election?"

"Riley was right," Cas responded. "We've done everything we can possibly do. So, rather than pace the floor nervously in Heaven with nothing to do, I thought that we would come here, instead. Besides, I meant what I said: I felt very badly that we did not celebrate our wedding anniversary. It's the most important day on the calendar."

Gail smiled. "I agree. But if we're going to Frank's, why did you wink us here, first?"

"I wanted to give you the first of two gifts I have for you," Cas told her.

Gail's heart sank. "Cas! I didn't get you anything! You should have said something!"

"I believe the definition of 'surprise' suggests that I should NOT have told you," Cas said, smiling playfully.

Gail swatted him lightly. "You know what I mean. I would have liked to have gotten YOU something, too."

"Well, this gift is mutual, really," Cas told her. "If you're ready, let's sit down on the couch, and then we'll begin."

"Oooh," she said, raising her eyebrow. "That's fine with me, but would you rather just go straight to the bedroom?"

Cas laughed softly. "Oh, we'll be doing that, too, don't you worry. But, for the moment, I had something else in mind. Here. Come."

He took her hand and led her over to the couch. They sat down together, and Cas said, "I'm going to put my hand on your head, and I'd like you to put yours on mine. That will allow us to search each others' minds. This is not intended to be an invasion of your privacy. If there is anything you would like kept to yourself, you need simply lock that room." He smiled. "But just so you know, my doors will all remain unlocked. We can go wherever you want in the time I have allotted, but as this is for our anniversary, I'm hoping we can concentrate on the most important and romantic moments we have had together."

Gail was puzzled. "That sounds wonderful, Cas, but how would it work, exactly?"

"Follow my lead," he told her. "You'll see."

She nodded. "OK, Cas."

He put his hand gently on her forehead, and she did the same with him. "Close your eyes," Cas said softly. "Concentrate."

Gail did, and after a few minutes, she found herself standing in the bunker's library. She and Cas were holding hands, and they were watching as Sam typed away on his laptop. Gail could see herself sitting at the table beside him, and she looked up at Cas questioningly. "Is this...?"

"Our first meeting, of course," he said, smiling. "Everything that follows begins here, wouldn't you agree?"

She would, but this was just so surreal, watching herself like this. "I feel like the Ghost of Christmas Past, or something," Gail quipped nervously. "Hopefully, Sam and Dean don't see us, and go for the salt."

"They can't see us," Cas said calmly, with a little smile. "These are our memories, and ours, alone."

Suddenly, they heard the metal door to the bunker clang shut, and Cas started to descend the steps, moving slowly. The Gail who was sitting at the table looked at him and said aloud, "This is their friend? He looks like he should be in the hospital. Actually, he looks like death warmed over."

Gail looked up at her husband, astonished. "That's what I was thinking. But I didn't say it out loud."

"I know," he acknowledged. "But the beauty of being in each others' minds is that we can each hear what the other was thinking at the time."

The Cas who had just come down the stairs stopped short when he saw Gail sitting at the table. "This must be the girl whose brother has been abducted," he said aloud. "At least, I'm pretty sure that is what Dean said happened. If I could only get some rest. I'm so tired all the time. Just look at her. She looks so sad. She's got beautiful eyes. I wonder if either Sam or Dean will want to date her. I hope not." Then he looked puzzled. "Why did I say that?"

Gail smiled as her husband said softly, "I thought that, because I was interested in dating you, myself. But I could not say it out loud, of course. At that point, I was just so consumed by my illness. I knew that I had nothing to offer you, because I was dying."

Then Mind Gail said, "I have to find out what's wrong with him. Sam and Dean don't even seem to notice. Maybe they're used to seeing him this way, but he looks really sick to me. I've got to come up with a way to touch him, somehow. Then, I can be sure."

Before present-day Gail could come up with a suitable quip about finding an excuse to touch him, Mind Cas said, "She's staring at me. I must look terrible. I wish I had the energy to clean myself up for her."

Gail smiled again. He had been so cute, even back then. Now that she knew everything would work out all right, she was able to just drink in the experience. What a wonderful and unique way of being able to re-live your best memories with the one you loved.

Mind Gail walked around the table and tripped herself. Mind Cas caught her, and she spoke again, detailing everything she was picking up from him. "I've got to heal him," she said aloud. "But, how?"

"See? You cared about me, even back then," Cas said happily.

"Of course I did," Gail responded. "I couldn't bear to see you so sick."

"Where do you want to go next?" Cas asked her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll leave it up to you. You're driving the bus, so to speak."

So she winked them to Cas's room in the bunker, where they watched Mind Gail give him the glass of water to drink.

"If he doesn't drink that in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna pour it down his throat," Mind Gail fretted.

Mind Cas was holding the glass of water, smiling gently at Mind Gail. "She's so sweet. So caring," he said. "It can't possibly work, but I know she means well. She looks so upset, though. I'll drink it, if only to make her happy."

"You WERE humouring me!" Gail said to her husband. "That's what I thought. But at that point, I didn't care. I was fairly confident it would work, but I just had to get you to take it."

"Of course I was going to take it," Cas teased her, smiling. "How on earth could I resist the doe eyes?"

She started to make a retort, but he was looking at her so charmingly that she relented. His eyes were sparkling now. "I'm glad you chose to come here," he said to her. "You're going to want to hear what happens next."

After Mind Cas drank the water and thanked her, Mind Gail left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Mind Cas looked at the closed door. "I love you for caring so much about me," he murmured. "I love YOU." Then he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"I already loved you then," Cas said to her now. "And as soon as I fell asleep, the cure started to do its work. And you'll never guess what I dreamed about."

"What?" she asked him, smiling. She was completely enthralled now.

"Come on. I'll show you," he said. He led her by the hand over to the bed where the Angel Castiel slept. Cas put his hand on his own forehead, and since he was still holding her hand in his, her hand was by extension on the sleeping Castiel's forehead, too.

Gail was plunged into Castiel's dream with her husband. Just when she thought things couldn't get any more surreal, now she and Cas were standing off to the side of an altar in a church, and their dream counterparts were at the altar, getting married.

She looked at her husband in astonishment. "No way," she said.

Cas was smiling shyly. "I'm surprised I didn't just stay in bed the next morning. It was the most wonderful dream I'd ever had. But it seemed like just a fantasy to me. I never imagined that you would love me back. I never imagined that you might ever feel the same way."

She touched his face. "I already loved you then, too. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. You were an Angel, and I was a human. I thought you were way too good for me."

Cas smiled. "Isn't that funny? I've always thought that it was the other way around. I still do, in fact. Where do you want to go now?"

Chronologically speaking, there was only one answer to that. There had been all kinds of little moments here and there as the two of them had gradually fallen deeper and deeper in love, but their first time in Las Vegas as humans had been the dawn of their physical relationship. Gail winked them to their hotel room at the Rio, where they watched themselves sitting and talking on the couch in their room. Mind Cas made his halting admission that he had never had a relationship with a woman before, physical or otherwise. He said aloud, "I'm afraid I won't be very good. But, whatever happens, please don't give up on me. I'm willing to learn. You are my person, and my entire existence will be dedicated to loving you, and making you happy."

Mind Gail said, "I've got no experience with these kinds of things. I hope I don't disappoint you. I've never been with a man, but, let's face it, you've also been waiting a lot longer than me. I'm trying not to think about that, though. I'm already so nervous, as it is. But the bottom line is that I love you. I love it when you kiss me, and I love it when you touch me. We'll figure the rest out, together."

Then Mind Cas started to kiss Mind Gail, and as things started to get passionate, Gail turned to her husband, smiling. "Well, as much as I loved re-living what led up to our first time, I think we'd better leave these two alone," she quipped. "Besides, I'd much rather be doing it than watching it."

"We still have a bit of time," Cas told her as they left the hotel room. "Where would you like to go now?"

Her smile faded. "Nothing around the tribunal, that's for sure. But, I was wondering about something: now that we know the Demon period never happened, do you think we would be able to see things as they truly were at the time?"

Cas was surprised by her question. This was uncharted territory for him. Could they? "I don't know, but we have to try," he said, excited by the prospect.

So they went back to the cabin, and this time, they saw Metatron put his hand on each of their foreheads, modifying their memories. "How could we have missed that?" Gail exclaimed. "Oh, yeah. It was because Jason was torturing the crap out of me at the time, and Aurielle was so busy trying to be your next girlfriend!"

Cas frowned. He was watching intently now. All of the subsequent events in the cabin unfolded as he had remembered, but what he was really interested in seeing were the events which had occurred afterwards.

So was Gail. She endured watching the terrible events that had happened in the cabin again, just so she could get to the payoff. And, sure enough, when their friends got there, Crowley took all of his essence back, and Cas did kiss her. But there was no inappropriate behaviour, and there was no argument.

Then, Gail took them back to the bunker, where they shared hugs all around, one of the biggest ones coming from Frank. Neither Gail nor Cas argued with her brother there either, because there had been nothing to argue about. Cas had had absolutely no Demon left in him, and his eyes were blue, and sparkling. Frank had thanked Cas for taking such good care of his sister, and Cas had nearly cried with relief that Frank was accepting him as a future brother-in-law.

"Cas..." Gail started to say, but her throat was closing now and her eyes pooled with tears.

He didn't trust himself to speak, either. He winked them both over to the house they'd had at the time, the house they'd thought of as a house of horrors. But, none of it had happened. None of it. They saw themselves happily cohabiting there. They did make love very often, but Cas was always gentle, and loving. And as his confidence in that area grew, he was able to be a little more aggressive with her at times, if they both wanted it to be that way. But there were no bruises, and there was no pain, and there was certainly not any blood.

"I've been thinking," Cas said softly, as they watched him making love to her on the couch. "I wondered so many times why we'd thought that I had actually hungered for your blood. I believe I might have an answer for that, now."

She looked at him, curious. She had wondered that same thing herself. Even if Cas HAD been a Demon, that predilection had been so unlike anything she knew about him that they should have known something was terribly wrong.

"I didn't find out what the actual method was that you used to restore my Grace when we first met, until you testified at the tribunal," Cas told her soberly. "My subconscious mind obviously associated your blood with the intense love that I felt for you."

She was taken aback for a moment. "That's both the sweetest, and the grossest, thing I've ever heard," she quipped. "But since it's coming from you, I'll allow it."

They began to fast-forward to various significant points they both remembered from during that time. There had never been any injections, or any cruelty. Gail and Jody actually had gone clothes shopping, but all that had happened on that day was the trying on of a few outfits and then the excursion to the bar, where they'd begun to bond as friends, and potential sisters-in-law.

There had never been any bruises, so there had never been any fights with Sam and Dean, or Frank. Frank had gone back out on the road, not to get away from her and Cas, but because that was what he did. They had ended up living in the bunker, not because Gail needed to be protected from Cas, but because those youths had snuck into their house to make crystal meth and blown it up in the process, as Bobby had previously advised.

Both Angels were crying now. It was one thing to be told that these things had never happened, but it was quite another to see it with your own eyes. What they were seeing now was merely a couple who were deeply in love. They loved each other, and their friends and family loved them, and vice versa. And that was it. End of story. But then, because they had both been mired in the depths of Metatron's modification, Cas had left the bunker one night, explaining to Gail in a note that he could no longer bear the fact that he was causing her so much pain. After a while, he had come back, because he also couldn't bear to be away from her. But then, after their minds had manufactured a nonexistent cure for him, she had ordered Cas to leave, and he'd had no choice but to go. The two of them could never have stayed apart, though. They loved each other far too much for that. Their love was so strong that they'd actually created an imaginary cure for an imaginary disease, just to find a way to be together.

Gail winked them back to the present, and as they took their hands away from each other's foreheads, she flung herself into his arms. They cried together for a good long time; mostly happy tears, but there were also tears of sadness, and regret.

When they were just about cried out, Gail extricated herself gently from their embrace. "Thank you, Cas. That was the most wonderful gift I could ever have received."

He gave her a tremulous smile. "I fear I have been unfair," he said. The strong emotions he was feeling had caused him to revert to a formal way of speaking. "This gift has been of great value to me, as well. Arguably, even more so. I was not a monster, and I didn't hurt you."

"I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry," she said softly.

"No, my darling. Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly. "But, just so you know, now that we have been in each other's minds, we can go back again, any time we want."

Gail gave him a half-smile. "It was kind of neat to see what was on your mind when we were first getting together. It was so romantic."

"As I was hoping that it would be," Cas said, nodding. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Frank's number. He told his brother-in-law they would be there in about an hour, and then he hung up.

Then Cas looked at his wife, raising an eyebrow. "Shall we, my darling?" he asked her.

"Do you even need to ask?" she replied.

He winked her to the bedroom.

"I didn't know what to get you both for your anniversary, so I helped Cas make this," Jody said. She presented Gail with a large white book that looked like a photo album. It had "Wedding Memory Book" on the cover. "I remember you mentioning this to me before, but I'd never heard of such a thing," Gail said to Cas.

"It's an ancient tradition," Cas told her. "What you might call 'Old School', isn't that right, Rob?"

"That's right, Uncle Cas," Rob confirmed. That wasn't exactly true. Nobody really said that any more. But Rob wasn't about to correct him. Ever since Cas and Gail had come here to the house and destroyed the hex bag in that bear, Rob's attitude towards his Uncle Cas had turned completely around.

Gail opened the book, and everyone gathered around to look.

"I'm sorry it's a bit thin, but we'll add things every year, on our anniversary," Cas said.

Most of the entries were photos. The bunker, Sam and Dean, Cas and Gail. Then there was Frank, and Jody, Bobby, the Angels, and Rob. Gail had pretty much expected all of these photos, but there were some surprises, too. There was the white feather that Cas had put in his pocket when he had proposed to her, and there was the garter she had worn at their wedding. Then there were pictures from Frank and Jody's wedding, and their own, of course.

Gail flipped to the last page. She saw the pictures that were posted in it, and she burst out laughing. "What?" Frank said.

"Look!" she said delightedly, turning the book towards him. There were three autographed photos of the actors who played Cas, Dean, and Sam.

"Who are THOSE weirdos?" Sam quipped.

"I don't know, but it's always good to have spare parts, right, Dean?" Frank said, elbowing the elder Winchester.

Dean was smirking. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: those are some good-looking sons of bitches."

"So, day after tomorrow we're gonna have a new God," Frank remarked. "I hope it's you, Cas. Although Bobby would be OK, too."

"You may think you're getting away with something because it's not going to be me, but just know that if it's Cas, you guys are on my S-list," Gail quipped, closing the book.

"'S-list'? What kind of talk is that for an Angel?" Sam asked her, grinning.

She raised her eyebrows. "It stands for Smite-list, Sam," she said innocently. "I don't know what you were thinking."

They all laughed, and Angela began to cry weakly. Jody had the baby in a bassinet beside the loveseat. Angela had to be fed so often right now that Jody didn't bother making the trek to the new nursery.

"Sorry, Jody," Gail said quickly, but Jody shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she told her sister-in-law, lifting the baby gently. "It's time for her fifteenth feeding this hour, anyway."

"She's taking after her dad, already," Sam said.

"Careful, other Winchester," Frank said to Sam. "Remember, you can be replaced. I just saw it in that book my sister's got. But I, on the other hand, am irreplaceable."

"That's one word for it," Jody said, cradling the baby.

"You're not gonna take your boob out or anything, are you?" Dean said uneasily.

Jody looked at him balefully. "It's called breast-feeding, and it's a natural, beautiful part of life," she reprimanded him. Then she grinned, seeing his look of alarm. "No, I'm not gonna pull my boob out, Dean. How gross would THAT be?"

Rob came into the room, carrying a bottle. "Here you go, Mom," he said. "Sterilized and nuked, for your dining pleasure, Angela."

Gail had to do a double-take. In that moment, Rob had sounded so much like Frank that she'd almost had to check to see if her brother had taken up ventriloquism. As it was, she swore that the two of them were starting to look alike. Which would have been extraordinary, since they were in no way related. Unless you counted by love, that was.

Jody fed Angela from the bottle while everyone else chatted. Rob and Frank put out snacks, and Gail had a glass of wine.

"Angela needs to be changed again," Jody announced. She looked at Dean. "If it's going to gross you out, feel free to leave the room."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Number one, or number two?"

"How about we just leave that as a delightful surprise?" Jody said dryly.

"May I do it?" Cas piped up. "Please?"

Jody looked at him uncertainly. "Have you ever changed a diaper before?"

"Well, no. But I'm fairly certain I can do it," he replied earnestly.

"Let him do it," Frank said to Jody. "Then one day, when Angela is older, we can tell her that God changed her diapers."

"From your lips to...well, Cas's ears," Gail said, her lips twitching.

"We'll have to change all the expressions," Sam said. "'In Cas We Trust'. That one's already true, anyway."

"When you wish somebody luck, you could wish them 'Cas-speed'," Jody added. She was watching their Angel friend like a hawk, but so far, he was doing fine. He'd gotten the diaper off of Angela, and now, he was wiping the baby's behind with the wet wipes Jody kept handy. Gail was watching the operation too, feeling absolutely no need to tell them that she could probably just wave her hand over Angela, and clean the infant instantly. No, it was much more entertaining this way.

"Our Cas, who art in Heaven, get your Godly ass down here," Dean said, smirking.

"I think we'll save that one just for special occasions," Cas said mildly. He was touching Angela's chubby little cheeks now and, incredibly, the baby was smiling. Or maybe not so incredibly, Gail thought. After all, Angela was female, wasn't she?

Then Cas took a fresh diaper from the jumbo pack Jody kept on the floor beside the loveseat. Lots of input led to lots of output. She'd learned that the hard way. Now, Frank had a membership card at one of those bulk places, and he and Rob made regular runs. On the bright side, though, it had been an ideal excuse for Jody to throw away that eyesore of a Hawaiian shirt that Frank had worn during construction of the nursery. Certain stains just didn't wash out. Jody had often thought that there must be a way to market the stains from a baby's diaper as Impressionist Art. She had told Frank this once, and he had laughed so hard that beer had come out of his nose.

"There," Cas said, smiling gently. "All done." Jody looked closely at Angela. The diaper did indeed seem to be on securely, and Angela was still smiling up at Cas.

Cas picked up the dirty diaper. "Where does this go?" he asked Jody.

"Ewwww, Cas, get that away from the food, man," Dean said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"What, this?" Cas said innocently, waving the dirty diaper towards Dean. Cas was fighting to keep a straight face. The look of horror on Dean's face was just too funny.

"Count yourselves lucky," Jody said matter-of-factly. She had grabbed a plate and was piling it high. She would have to start working out again soon. At her age, it was going to be harder to bounce back from the baby weight. "You should see some of her diapers. You'd swear she was eating roast beef and potatoes, not just drinking formula."

"Just like her dad," Frank said proudly.

"OK, well, before Frank has the chance to elaborate on that, I think Cas and I had better get going," Gail said. She handed the book to Cas and then made the rounds, giving everyone a big hug and a kiss. Cas followed suit. "'Bye, Angela," Gail said softly, tickling the baby's stomach with her finger. "Hopefully, the next time you see your Uncle Cas, he'll be God."

"Or Bobby will, and you can call him Grandpa God, just like your brother used to do," Frank said, smiling.

"Don't embarrass me, Dad," Rob said, but he smiled at the memory.

"I hate to be a party pooper, but what if Patricia wins?" Jody asked.

"We've agreed not to think about that," Gail replied. "But you'd all better send a lot of positive thoughts our way, because if she does, you may not see us again for a long, long time."

They were all silent for a moment. Then Gail smiled wryly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring the room down. Anyway, my husband's totally going to win." She touched Cas's face. "I mean, look at him. He's adorable. There's no way he's losing. I think we'll have to make sure there's a picture of him in every religious building here on Earth. Every denomination. Attendance at services would rise dramatically. Oh, and that reminds me." She looked at Sam and Dean. "Before we came here, I popped over to the bunker and left you guys a present. It's a souvenir campaign poster of Cas. I expect you to treat it with the proper respect."

The brothers grinned at each other. Oh, they would, all right. Cas and Gail joined hands, and they winked themselves away.


	2. Election Day

Chapter 2 - Election Day

"That's it," Bobby said to Laurel. "I've shaken my last hand, and kissed my last baby. Well, so to speak." He and Laurel smiled at each other. She had come to his cabin first thing in the morning on Election Day so that they could walk to the polls together.

Bobby frowned momentarily. "Actually, there's a baby I'd like to be kissing right now, on Earth. Cas took a couple of pictures of her on his cell phone, but it's not the same thing as seeing little Angela in person. I'm kinda like her Grandpa, you know."

"Well, I hope you'll be able to see her very soon," Laurel said cheerfully.

"OK, well, let's go," Bobby said. "Let's get this done."

Laurel frowned slightly. "Aren't you going to change into your suit?"

"Hell, no," Bobby said affably. "I'm done campaigning. Whichever way this vote goes, I'm gonna be comfortable."

Laurel sighed. But, she supposed he was right. The speeches and public appearances were all done now. At the end of the day today, Heaven would have a new God. She took his hand impulsively. "I really hope it's you, Bobby," Laurel told him. "You're the best boss I've ever had. And don't tell him so, but at the risk of receiving a smiting, that includes our original Father."

Bobby laughed. He blessed Laurel for helping him to take the edge off. "I'm not your boss, dear, I'm your friend. And, I know you have your job on the board now, but I'm hoping that if I do win, you'll come back to work with me at the High Office. Even if it's gotta be just part time. I wouldn't know what I was doing half the time, if it wasn't for you."

"Of course I'll come back to work for you, Bobby. I'd be happy to," Laurel told him. The Angels smiled at each other, and then they winked out of the cabin.

As she always seemed to do when she was nervous, Gail was brushing imaginary lint off the lapels of Cas's suit jacket. She was filled with adrenaline now. Cas was projecting a calm he didn't feel, but he didn't want to make Gail even more nervous by showing his own nerves.

Unlike Bobby, Cas had looked forward to wearing his suit this morning. He'd always felt more confident in a suit. And he'd worn this one for some of the finest occasions in his existence. He'd proposed to Gail in this suit, and she'd said yes. And regardless of what happened here today, that had been the greatest victory of all. Not of his "existence", but of his life. Because he hadn't truly been living before he'd met Gail.

Cas smiled. "You look beautiful. I hope you don't feel like you had to dress up for me."

"Of course I had to dress up for you," she said mildly. "How could I not? You look amazing."

"Perhaps we should talk about what we're going to do if Patricia wins the election," Cas fretted.

"No," Gail said firmly. "We're not talking about that today. If it happens, we'll deal with it. But today, we're going to walk into that polling station, we're going to cast our votes, and we're going to hold our heads high. I believe in you, sweetie. We're going to pull this out. Just you wait and see."

He leaned down and kissed her. "Thank you for believing in me, and for always being here for me," he said softly.

Gail looked warmly at her husband. "Hey, where else would I be?" she said with a half-smile. "Where you go, I go."

"I love you so much, my darling," Cas said, smiling.

"Good. Now give me one more really good kiss, and then we'll go vote," she said, her smile widening.

As Cas and Gail were getting ready to go to the polls, Patricia was already there. She had voted as soon as the polls had opened, and now she was standing there watching as the Angels began to file in.

Bobby and Laurel entered the room. They saw Patricia there, but they ignored her. Laurel had been very upset by Patricia's behaviour and tactics at the debate. If there was ever a time when the two of them had been friends, they certainly weren't any longer.

A few minutes later, Cas and Gail came in, accompanied by Riley and Liz. They all cast their votes, and then they stood on the opposite side of the room of Patricia, chatting with Bobby and Laurel.

Some of the Angels also stopped by to chat once they had voted, and soon, Cas and Gail and Bobby had a crowd of people around them. Patricia had attracted a few of her supporters as well, and the two groups were eyeing each other warily. Gail made a nervous quip about the Sharks and the Jets that went over most of the Angels' heads, but Chuck laughed uproariously.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion near the doors of the room, and the Angels that were all lined up there all moved aside.

"Archangel, coming through," Gabriel said loudly. "No need to genuflect; a simple bow or curtsy will do." He entered the room and looked around. When he saw Cas and Gail, he headed towards them. Some of Cas's students who were gathered around their teacher actually did bow, and Gail laughed.

Gabriel put his arm around her shoulders and put his hand out to Cas for a shake. "Well, don't the two of you look nice," he said. He and Cas shook, and then Gabe offered his hand to Bobby. "And it's nice to see you all here, together," Gabriel remarked, looking across the room at Patricia. She was glaring at him. He made a funny face, and Liz giggled.

Gabriel stared at Gail's friend. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Liz," she said pertly, offering her hand to him. Gabe took it and then raised her hand to his lips, kissing it. That prompted another giggle.

"Liz and I are childhood friends," Gail told Gabriel. "And, up until just recently, she was my campaign manager."

His forehead wrinkled. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, you won't find me on the ballot anymore," she explained. "I resigned from the campaign."

"Oh," he said, and then he shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll have to vote for Castiel, then. Although it would have been a lot more fun if it had been you."

"That's what Crowley said!" Gail blurted out. Damn. She probably shouldn't have said that. But she was just so nervous. The young cadets gasped, and one of them even made the sign of the cross.

But it didn't seem to faze Gabriel. He smirked. "Yeah? How is my favourite bee sting?"

"What?" Gail asked, puzzled. "Why did you call him that?"

"Have you ever been stung by a bee?" Gabe asked her.

"Actually, no," she replied.

"Well, it's just like this," Gabriel said. He made a buzzing sound, motioning with his hand. Then he touched her arm with one finger. "Ding! A little prick," he said. "Get it?"

Gail and Liz looked at each other, and then they burst out laughing. Gabriel smiled, pleased with himself.

"What's going on here?" Patricia said sternly. She strode angrily across the room. "This is a polling station, not a nightclub."

Gabriel gave her a baleful look. "You know what, Sister? You're absolutely right," he said. Then he snapped his fingers and suddenly, a number of tables and chairs appeared in the room, and all of the Angels had drinks in their hands. Gail and Liz giggled again. They couldn't help it. Just look at the expression on Patricia's face.

"How dare you!?" Patricia said indignantly.

"Watch it, Pat," Gabriel said, sneering at her now. "I'm an Archangel. I outrank you."

"Well, hopefully you won't, after today," she said coolly. "If I win the election, I'll outrank YOU, and you will be persona non grata in Heaven."

"That's some pretty fancy talk," Gabriel said, regarding her just as coolly. "Do you really think you'd be able to keep me out, if I want in?"

Patricia flashed back to Lucifer. "What is it about you men?!" she said, raising her voice. "You think you can just walk in here and take over, and that all of the women have to get down on their knees in front of you?"

Gabriel looked at her incredulously. What the hell was her problem? "Whoa, whoa, where did THAT come from?" he asked, making a face. "I would never expect a woman to get down on her knees in front of me. Well, not unless I bought her dinner, first," he wisecracked.

Gail elbowed him in the ribs, and Gabriel coughed. "I mean, not unless we loved each other very, very much, and I agreed to do the same thing for her, with all of the proper respect for her gender," he amended. Liz giggled again, and Gabriel moved away from Gail, rubbing the spot on his side where she'd jammed her elbow. "Ow," he said good-naturedly.

Patricia was glaring daggers at all of them now. "Archangels aren't invincible, you know," she said coldly. "You had all better hope I don't win the election." Then she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Gabriel stared after her. "You know, I think that woman's got a crush on me," he remarked, smirking. He looked at Liz and Gail, expecting a laugh. But instead, they looked troubled. They hadn't liked the sound of that.

Gail sighed now. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said to Cas. "I hope I didn't embarrass you."

Cas frowned. "Of course you didn't. I don't care what she thinks. It's nice to see you, Brother," he said to Gabriel. Gabe's mouth fell open. Was Castiel talking to HIM? Who woulda thunk it? "Thanks, Castiel," he said, smiling.

"Are you going to vote now?" Liz asked the Archangel. He waved his pinky finger. "I just did," he told her. "Archangel." Then he looked her up and down. "Are you free for a drink, me amor?"

Liz giggled. "Sorry, I'm married," she told him.

Gabe looked around the room. "Really? Who's the lucky guy? Are you HAPPILY married? I could zap him over to Purgatory for a couple of days, while you and I get to know each other better."

"Slow your roll, Romeo," Gail said dryly. "Liz's husband is alive, on Earth, but they're still married. There are untold numbers of Angels here for you to date."

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in supplication. "Just don't poke me anymore. Geez."

Now Gail and Liz did laugh again, and Gail put her hand on Gabriel's arm. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I hope I didn't hurt you. I just didn't want Patricia to get all wound up."

He shrugged. "Takes a lot more than that to hurt me, Kitten," he said airily. Then he looked at Bobby. "You're not going to ban me from Heaven if you win, are you, Bobby?"

Bobby's beard twitched. "Would it do any good if I did?"

Gabriel smirked. "Nope." But he was exhibiting a bravado he didn't feel. If Patricia won the election, she might very well be able to keep him out of Heaven, and she would be able to keep everyone here in, as well.

"Guess I'll be going now," the Archangel said. "It was nice to see everybody. Let me know when the victory party is. I'll bring a cheese plate." Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Andy was sitting on the bed in his room, rocking back and forth. He'd asked the orderlies to line the walls with padding, to insulate the room. The more layers between him and other people, the better. So now, he was living in an actual padded cell. It was both funny and pathetic, at the same time.

The voices had been dormant for a few years, but recently, they had started up again. He could hear his deceased parents in his head, and now that Oliver was dead, he was communicating with Andy, too. But Andy also heard the voices of the living. Some he recognized, like the hospital staff, but some, he didn't. A few minutes ago, there had been a couple of people talking about an election. Had four years gone by already, since the last one? It was entirely possible. One day melted into another here, and he was too crazy to vote, anyway. Although arguably not as crazy as the guy who had won the last election.

He also heard the thoughts of the other patients here, and that was why he had requested the padding. There were some crazy-ass people here, all right. Andy heard all of their thoughts, off and on, like the tuning of a dial on an old-time radio. He was given medication to help with that, of course, but sometimes he took it, and sometimes he didn't. He'd been stashing the pills under his mattress for a while now. No one bothered to see if he took his medicine, and whenever they told him that they were going to change his sheets, he would take the plastic bag he was keeping them in and shove it down his pants until they were finished.

It was kind of a Catch-22, when you thought about it. Years ago, when Andy's parents had committed him here as a kid, Andy hadn't really been crazy, just confused. Why did he hear all those voices in his head, when no one else seemed to? But that incident with the neighbour's dog had really scared him, so he'd come here gladly at the time. But then, after some time had passed, Andy had started to feel better. He was taking his medication regularly and talking to the doctors, and he seemed to have it all under control. So he eventually improved enough to be discharged. He'd gone back to the house, but everyone was gone. He'd found Oliver by concentrating and tuning in to his brother's voice in his head, but he didn't tell anyone that, because only crazy people heard other peoples' voices in that way.

Andy and Oliver had had a nice enough reunion, but they had never really had that much in common, so Andy had left his brother's house that day, and then they had never seen each other again. They had mentioned their other brother Vincent in passing in their conversation, but neither of them had seen or heard from him, and that had been just fine with them. They both knew that Vincent had murdered their parents at that point, but it was never discussed.

So Andy had continued to take his meds, allowing him to get a job and buy a small house, and he was just fine for a while. He even dated a nice girl a couple of times. But then, things had started to fall apart when he'd begun to hear Vincent's voice in his head. Andy's brother told him that he was a useless, crazy sack of nothing, who had no business being out there in the real world, with normal people. Anybody who could kill a dog like that, in cold blood, could just suddenly snap, and run around the office stabbing everybody with a letter opener. Or, he could wrap his belt around the delicate little neck of that girl he'd been seeing and squeeze, until her eyes popped right out of her head.

Andy had argued with Vincent for a while, but when he'd begun to do so out loud, people would start to stare. And walking down the street or standing in line at the supermarket was one thing - he'd bought a cell phone that he could hold to his ear to pretend - but when he'd started to do it at work, Andy had known it was the end. So he'd quit his job and stayed home in his little house, moving from room to room to get away from his thoughts. When he ran out of food, he was afraid to go back to the market, so he ate bags and bags of candy. The newspapers piled up because he was unable to concentrate long enough to read them, and everything he touched became sticky due to the candy. He had ceased bathing because every time he ran the water, Andy imagined that Vincent was creeping up on him while he was doing it.

So that was Andy's life, up until the day that two Girl Guides came to his door, selling those cookies. He'd invited them in, to stand in the front hallway while he went looking for money. The girls had looked at each other uneasily. The guy who'd answered the door looked like a homeless guy. He had a long beard, ragged clothes, and he smelled. But he'd said he wanted 20 boxes, which were all the cookies they had. If they sold those, they were done for the day. So they waited in the front hallway while Andy went to one of the places he thought he remembered having stashed some money.

As Andy was searching, Vincent started talking to him. Forget the cookies. Why didn't he just go back out there and grab those girls, tie them up, and put them in the spare room? Andy had never taken that little girlfriend of his to bed, even though he'd been on the verge of suggesting it on the last date they'd had before he'd gone back to being crazy. But even though she'd called and had come knocking a few times, Andy had never answered. He liked her way too much to risk hurting her. But now Vincent was in his head, telling Andy that those girls were actually young women, and that one of them had already been to second base with her boyfriend. It wasn't as if they were little kids, or anything. THAT would be disgusting. But they were ripe for the picking, and if Andy didn't take advantage, someone else would. Why deny himself? What the hell kind of pleasure did Andy even have in his life, anyway? And then, after, if he was afraid the girls would go to the police, Andy knew what to do to prevent that from happening, didn't he? If he was too much of a wimp to use the big butcher knife he kept in the kitchen, Andy could just suffocate them with a couple of pillows. His choice. And then, he could have all the cookies he wanted.

Andy had come running out into the hallway, screaming. Telling the girls to get out, before it was too late. So they had opened the front door and fled, and then Andy had called the hospital immediately and begged them to come and get him. Lock him up, and destroy the key. Then he had thrown some clothes in a suitcase and sat on the front step waiting for them, telling Vincent to go away and leave him alone.

And now, after all these years, Andy was hearing his brother's voice in his head again. That was why he was saving those pills under his mattress. If things got as bad as they had been before, he was just going to take them all and lay down to sleep. Because for one very brief moment, when Vincent had been talking to Andy about the Girl Guides, Andy had come very close to listening.

The polls had closed now, and crowds of Angels were congregated in Cas's campaign office, awaiting the results. Unlike the American election, there was no TV coverage, and there was no tote board, with ever-changing numbers. They all remained completely in the dark as to how it was going.

Riley, Laurel and Ogden were in the polling centre overseeing the count, as the official representatives of each candidate. But Liz was sitting with the group, as were the majority of Cas's students, his campaign team, Bobby, and their Angel friends.

"Boy, is this ever taking a long time," Chuck groused.

"You're just saying that 'cause Laurel said she'd finally be able to spend some time with you after the votes were counted," Kevin teased him.

Chuck grinned. "Yeah, well, there's that, too. But mostly, it's because I want to get the victory party rolling."

"Don't count your chickens," Ethan cautioned his fellow Musketeer. "Though I've gotta say, I've really enjoyed taking over at the Academy this past week. You've been doing a great job with the cadets, Cas. I haven't really had too much training to do, actually."

Cas smiled absently, but his nerves were raw. This did seem to be taking an awfully long time. Suddenly, he got a call from Riley on Angel Radio. Could he and Bobby come to the polling station immediately?

Cas stood, bringing Gail to her feet with him. "This is it," he announced. "Let's go, Bobby."

The three Angels popped over to the room where the votes had been counted. They walked in, and Patricia approached them, frowning. "What is SHE doing here?" she asked, nodding her head towards Gail.

Cas looked at Patricia in disbelief. "What do you mean? Gail is my wife!"

"She's no longer a candidate; therefore, she's not entitled to be here. Only the candidates and their designated representatives can be here while the results are being read," Patricia said coolly.

Cas's blood boiled. She was doing this on purpose. What possible harm could be caused by having Gail in the room?

"OK, sweetie, I'll wait outside," Gail said to Cas. She reached up to give her husband a kiss on the cheek, and then she touched Bobby's arm. Then she walked out of the room, and the doors closed behind her.

The candidates and their representatives gathered around the counting table. The head of the team gave them all a smile. "We have the tabulated results," she told them. "Just to let you know, Castiel, even though Gail was no longer on the ballot, she still came in, in fourth place. A fair amount of Angels wrote her name in. I just thought she might like to know that."

He gave her a tight smile. "Thank you. I'll tell her that."

"Bobby came in third," the Angel continued, "with a very respectable showing."

Laurel put her hand on Bobby's arm, and he patted her hand, nodding in acknowledgement.

"The vote was extremely close," the Angel went on. "In fact, it was so close that we thought you might be requesting a re-count. That is why we decided to gather you here, instead of simply announcing the results."

Everyone held their breath, and then she said, "The prohibitive winner of the election, by 11 votes, is Patricia."

Cas's heart stopped. No. That couldn't be so. But, of course it was so. All this time, hadn't they always known things were going to turn out this way? But they hadn't allowed themselves to acknowledge it.

"We'll have to do a re-count, immediately," Riley said.

"I thought you might say that," she said, nodding. "We're all prepared to stay, for as long as it takes. Each candidate may designate an additional representative to help with the count." She gave Cas an apologetic look. "And, in case you're going to ask, I'm afraid that Gail can't be one of them. According to the rules that the board put in place, none of the representatives can be related to any of the candidates, to assure impartiality. But the good news is that, since the candidates aren't allowed in the room while the count is going on, you and Gail will be able to wait together."

Cas pressed his lips together in frustration. He supposed that, if the difference was only 11 votes, they should do the re-count. But, did those things ever work? He wasn't exactly a history buff, but Cas couldn't think of one single time. Too bad Sam wasn't here; he might know. But Cas owed it to himself, Gail, and his team to ask for the attempt.

"I've asked Velma to come, as my second representative," Patricia told them.

"Am I allowed one, even though I'm out?" Bobby asked. "I just thought more hands would make it go quicker."

The Angel scanned the rules. "I don't see why not, if the other two candidates have no objection." Cas and Patricia both shook their heads. The sooner this was accomplished, the better.

"Then I'll ask Kevin to come," Bobby said. "Cas?"

"Ask him to bring Liz with him, please," Cas said.

Once the additional Angels had popped into the room, and the situation had been explained to them, Cas and Bobby walked back out into the hallway.

"I'll leave the two of you alone," Bobby said soberly. "I'll go over to your campaign office and let everybody else know what's going on." He winked out.

Cas took Gail's hands in his. "What's going on, Cas?" she asked him. He told her, and she could feel her heart sink to her stomach. No. Oh, no. It couldn't be.

Still, she tried to be brave for him. "Eleven votes is nothing, Cas. Think about how many millions upon millions of Angels there are. That's such a slim margin. Maybe they made a mistake."

He hugged her fiercely. The lump was growing in his throat. She was always taking up for him, always supporting him. He wanted to be brave for her. But the bottom line was, if Patricia had won, their lives were about to change a great deal, and definitely not for the better.

They returned to Cas's campaign office to await the results of the re-count. All of their supporters were still there, except for Kevin and Liz, of course. But the mood was a lot more subdued now.

They waited for hours, talking quietly, and then the call came. Cas took Gail's hand and winked her to the polling station. He led her into the room and this time, no one stopped Gail's entry. The couple stood beside Bobby and Patricia.

"Following the re-count, we discovered a discrepancy," the Angel in charge of the counting team told them. Gail's heart stopped. Could it be?

"The Archangel Gabriel voted for Castiel twice," the Angel said. "Therefore, his votes have been spoiled. Patricia is our new God, by a margin of 13 votes."

Patricia was smiling smugly now. "He thought he was above the rules, I suppose. Well, his little joke backfired. He put all of these people through all of that extra work for nothing. He is hereby banned from Heaven. He is a troublemaker, who clearly cannot follow the simplest of rules. Things will be run properly here, from now on. People will conform to the rules, or they will face consequences." She looked at Velma. "Did you bring the box?"

Her assistant came forward, carrying a white box with God's seal affixed to the flap. Patricia put one hand on the form that the count team had all signed, bearing the official result, and the other hand on the seal. There was a white glow, and then the seal opened. Then, Patricia took the box from Velma and put it down on the table. She reached in, and took out the white Bible. The glow emanated from the book and suffused her body, and a moment later, it faded away.

Patricia smiled serenely. "I took the liberty of asking Ogden to take some exit polls earlier today. Perhaps you would like to hear what many of the Angels said about you, Castiel. I have to admit that you and your team did an admirable job in making the vote so close. But many Angels were leery of your legendary temper, and your violent background. They were concerned that you might plunge us all into a Holy War with Hell. And even though Gail was no longer officially in the race, she still got some votes from younger Angels, who viewed her platform as 'progressive'. But there was some concern about her past association with Crowley, as detailed in the transcript of the tribunal. Also, they didn't like the fact that she used dark magic to revive your human friend. The Angels were quite concerned about the fact that Crowley and Castiel are brothers, and that both Castiel and Gail have criminal records."

Patricia continued to smile as the couple stared at her, open-mouthed with shock. They hadn't even had the chance to absorb the fact that Cas had lost the election by such a narrow margin. Now, Patricia had already taken the power of the Office from God's own Bible, and she was telling them all of these things as if they would make any kind of difference.

"All three of you were praised very highly for the roles you played in vanquishing Lucifer, but many of our Brothers and Sisters were concerned about your ties to Heaven's other enemies," Patricia went on.

Ogden was looking at all three of them now, to gauge their reactions. Gail in particular looked like she was going to faint. He was trying not to stare, but it was difficult to keep from gloating, really. It served her right. He thought back to the confrontation he had had with her in the boardroom, way back when. Gail had been trying to rewrite the ancient laws according to her own ideas of morality, and Castiel and Bobby had backed her. Gail and Ogden had clashed over the issue of homosexuality. Ogden held the belief that it was an abomination, and that anyone who practiced it should be banned from admittance into Heaven. Gail had gotten her way on that particular occasion, but Patricia was God now, and Castiel's little concubine was going to have to accept the new order of things now, whether she liked it or not.

When Patricia had first announced her candidacy, Ogden had been unsure how he felt about the prospect of having a female God. Ogden was what Castiel would have called a hardliner, on the order of Angels like Xavier and Alexander. Truthfully, Ogden didn't approve of the concept of a female God. However, he was a pragmatist. When early polls had suggested that the tide might be turning that way, Ogden had questioned Patricia closely about her ideals, and her platform. He had been pleasantly surprised to discover that she was an old-fashioned woman who shared many of the same values as Ogden himself did. By that time, Gail had also announced her candidacy, but Ogden knew what SHE was all about. She was much too wild and free to ever be allowed to take the Office. Fortunately, it appeared as if Heaven had felt the same way. Had she remained on the slate, Gail still would have finished in 4th place.

Patricia had not gone after Bobby as hard as she had the other two, because she didn't consider him as much of a threat. And, if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she had been perfectly fine with the way he had run things. But he was too malleable, and if he had been allowed to re-take the Office, it would have been just a matter of time before Castiel and Gail moulded him into their way of thinking. Patricia didn't blame Bobby as much as she did those two for what had happened with Lucifer. At least Bobby had tried to defend her. That was why she had not hammered home the fact that Bobby had spent time in a mental institution after the tribunal. She hadn't really wanted to tarnish his reputation to that extent. Bobby had always been good to her, a perfect gentleman. But she'd had to bring up his association with Rowena, just in case Heaven was still leaning towards having a man as God. She felt a little badly for Bobby. Had Lucifer never happened, they might have continued to court. But Bobby could no longer be trusted to do the right thing by Heaven, in Patricia's opinion.

Patricia was exhilarated. Look at their faces. The ersatz King and Queen of Heaven were getting the wake-up call they so richly deserved. The gravy train was pulling into the station, as the saying went, and they were going to find out very quickly that Patricia wasn't going to put up with their nonsense any more. They would toe her line, or they would pay the price.

"I'll be in my office," Patricia said, and she strode out of the room.


	3. I'll Be Watching You

Chapter 3 - I'll Be Watching You

It was three weeks after the election now, and Patricia had already systematically undermined everything that Bobby and Gail had accomplished in Heaven. She'd formed a "task force" of burly male Angels, who had gone from office to office and home to home, confiscating all of the computers and cell phones. Then, Patricia had marched into the boardroom and, much to Ogden's delight, she had dropped the volume of the revised laws in the middle of the table with a loud THUNK, and she had set fire to it. Gail had sat there, tight-lipped and stone-faced, as Patricia had looked at her, smiling widely. Once it was apparent that Gail had nothing to say, Patricia had strutted triumphantly out of the room.

The board still met, but Gail was beginning to wonder if there was any point to it any more. They all got together and talked about various laws they could propose, but everything had to be approved by Patricia now, and so far, she had rejected each and every amendment that Gail had brought to her. Gail was sure the woman was doing it just for spite. Still, she persevered, mainly because she didn't know what else to do.

Thank goodness Patricia had allowed the Angel Academy to stay in operation, at least. Maybe she'd thought that Cas had to be kept occupied at all times so he didn't foam at the mouth and kill every Angel in Heaven or something, Gail thought sarcastically. Patricia was still going around telling everyone that Cas was a vicious killer, a dangerous beast who was liable to snap at any time. Exactly what she hoped to accomplish by doing that, Gail was sure she didn't know. Probably just to stick it to them. Everything Patricia did, every edict that she had issued from her Sainted Office, seemed to be designed specifically for the purpose of sticking it to Gail and Castiel. Every day, there would be a new one. True to her word, Patricia had sealed Heaven up tighter than a drum. Gail and Cas were no longer able to make visits to Earth, and the worst part was, since Patricia had confiscated the computers and cell phones, they couldn't even contact their friends and family to let them know what was going on. Three beefy guys from the so-called task force had shown up to Cas's campaign office immediately after Patricia had been elected and forced Cas to hand over his cell phone, and then they had smashed the computer in his office, just for good measure.

A day or so after the election, Cas and Gail and Bobby had started to receive prayers from their loved ones. At first, they had been tentative, in the form of inquiries, only. There had even been some humour; now that Cas was God, was he too good to hang around with them anymore? Then, as the silence wore on, the messages had become more bewildered in nature, and then, more worried, and angry. What the hell was going on up there? Why weren't they at least calling anybody, if they were too busy to actually come down?

Eventually, both Cas and Gail had had to shut their frequencies off completely, because everything had become too heartbreaking and frustrating to hear. And still, that wasn't good enough for Patricia. Her rules kept getting more and more restrictive, wrapping tighter and tighter around their necks until they felt like they couldn't breathe. Every morning, Patricia had Velma make a public announcement to all of Heaven at the start of the work day, and every morning, there was a new edict.

Gail looked skyward as this morning's rule came over the PA. She was sitting at her desk reading an ancient law book that Chuck had given her, trying to find anything that she could hang her hat on. Patricia couldn't just keep on issuing these things like Pez from a never-ending dispenser, could she? But of course, Patricia was God now, wasn't she? She could do whatever the hell she wanted.

Gail couldn't believe her ears. Velma was reading the latest proclamation from Queen Patricia, and it was a big one: Angels were hereby prohibited from demonstrating any sort of affection in public. No hugging, no kissing, no holding hands.

Unbelievable. Gail picked up the heavy tome she'd been poring through and heaved it as hard as she could across her office. It landed with a thud on the floor, but the action did nothing to ease her frustration. She should have taken that book and marched over to the High Office, wound up, and whacked Patricia right in her smug, fat face with it.

Gail rose from her desk and winked over to the Academy. Cas was in his office grading papers, and he stood as soon as she came in. "Pick a weapon," she said to him, fuming.

Cas's forehead wrinkled, but then, he figured it out. It was a little game they played every now and then, when the pain and frustration got to be too much. "A mace," he said.

She made a face. "Naahh. By the time I could wind up and swing it at her, she could smite me into oblivion."

Cas came around the desk and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Well, we're not in public right now," he said softly.

"Just wait, that'll be the next thing," she grumbled. "No hugging in the workplace. Or, no hugging at all." But she put her arms around him too, and let him hold her for a few moments.

"Cas, what are we going to do?" Gail asked her husband. "I don't know how much longer I can stand it."

He nodded. "I know, my darling. I feel the same way. Thank goodness we have each other. Why don't you teach the class with me today? I find that when I get angry, if I work out physically, it helps to take the edge off my anger." He gave her a faint smile. "Besides, if you and I demonstrate some moves for the class, we will of necessity have physical contact with each other, won't we? Would that fall into the category of something that is 'hot'?"

Gail knew what he was doing now. He was trying to keep things light, to keep their morale up. It had been very difficult for many of the Angels in their circle. That night, the night they'd had to go back to Cas's campaign office and tell everyone that they'd lost, had been one of the hardest things they'd ever had to face. Their hearts had been heavy, and they'd been afraid of what Patricia was going to do. Gail's throat had closed, and the tears had started to come. That was the first time that she had cried following the election results, but it had definitely not been the last. Then Liz had started to cry too, and Riley had rushed out of the room. Cas had gone after his young campaign manager, and when they had both come back into the room, Riley's eyes had been red-rimmed from the tears that he had shed on Cas's behalf.

But Cas had remained stoic. As the Angels had started to quietly drift out of the office, he had thanked them all for their hard work, and said he hoped he hadn't disappointed them too much. Then there had been hugs, and more tears, until everyone had gone, leaving only Riley and Liz.

"I really thought you were going to win," Liz had said to Cas in a bewildered tone. "I don't know what's wrong with people."

"I wonder if we should do another re-count," Riley had said stubbornly. "Thirteen votes. She won by thirteen votes." He'd kept repeating the number all night like a mantra, ever since they'd gotten back from the polling station. Thirteen votes. Gail wondered what Stu the numerology guy would do with that number. No wonder people were superstitious about it.

"No, Riley," Cas had said wearily. "We're done. It's over. We'll just have to accept the reality. The Angels have spoken. Patricia is our new God. We'll just have to find a way to work within that framework."

But of course, that had been then, when they had thought it would be possible. They'd soon learned the ugly truth, however. Patricia didn't want them to work with her, or even for her. She wanted them to kneel, and she wanted them to grovel. And just when they thought it wasn't possible to get any lower to the ground, Patricia was going to dig a big hole and throw them into it.

Predictably enough, Gail started out every day already angry, and as the day wore on, she just got madder and madder. This was the last straw, she told herself daily. It couldn't possibly get any worse than this. And yet somehow every day, it did. Now she and Cas couldn't even hold hands in public. What the hell was even the point of a stupid law like that, anyway?

She said this to Cas now, and he nodded in agreement. Cas wasn't nearly as stoic as he appeared to be. He was churning on the inside. He was just as angry as Gail was on a daily basis; he just didn't see the point in shaking his fist and railing at the ceiling. And he wanted to be strong for Gail. She had borne so much on his behalf, and she was still doing it. Cas had brought them both down once again, with his record of violence and bad decisions. Now, they were both suffering again, because of him. It was the tribunal all over again, except this time, they would have an eternity to deal with the consequences of his past behaviour.

"I'm just attempting to look on the bright side," Cas said to her now. "Just think of how sexy it will be if we have to sneak around behind Patricia's back."

Gail made a face. "I know what you're trying to do, but she's God, Cas. She can see us no matter where we go."

And that was certainly true, either one way or the other. Patricia now had the ability to send out The Eye. Not that she really needed to with those two, though. They were completely under her thumb now. She knew where they were, every minute of every day. She had them reasonably compliant now, but it wasn't good enough, not yet. They were unhappy, but she wanted them miserable. The bottom line, as they were so fond of saying, was that the two of them still had each other for support. No matter what restrictions Patricia imposed, the couple still went back to their suite at the end of the work day, and then the sinning would begin. She didn't care if they were married; as far as Patricia was concerned, they behaved like animals. No sooner were they behind closed doors than the kissing would start, and the clothing would come off. Most of the time they would head straight for the bedroom, and then Patricia would shut off the Eye. But sometimes they would start up in the living room, and she would be caught off guard. Sometimes she still watched them on the monitor, just to see what they were saying. She'd kept her own computer, of course, and Patricia still watched them mostly every night, just to make sure...well, just to make sure. She didn't trust those two. Just because they appeared to be toeing the line didn't mean that they weren't plotting something. So she watched in disgusted fascination as the Angels used their tongues to kiss each other. Sometimes, one of them would get down on their hands and knees and pleasure the other. Disgusting. When Castiel held Gail's head and smiled, telling his wife he loved her, that was bad enough. But Gail looked like she was actually enjoying what she was doing to her husband. Patricia certainly hadn't enjoyed it. Of course, Gail's hair wasn't being pulled, and she wasn't being made to gag, was she? But then, Castiel had placed Gail on the couch so that he could enter her from behind, and Patricia had snapped the monitor off at that moment, unable to bear another second of the scene. Castiel had been kissing his wife's back and caressing her tenderly while pushing himself into her, faster and faster, until Patricia thought for sure that Gail would have cried out in pain. But Gail only cried out her husband's name, telling him how much she loved him, and how good what he was doing to her was making her feel. Patricia couldn't believe it. It hadn't felt good at all. It had felt like humiliation, violation, and insanity. To engage in such disgusting and depraved acts, the Angels must be disgusting and depraved people themselves. But no one else in Heaven seemed to see it. Now that the election was over, everything had pretty much gone back to the way things had been before. Gail still had the board, although Patricia had done her utmost to make sure that Castiel's wife was a figurehead only, unable to make any real policy decisions. And Castiel still had his little Academy, and his devoted students, who followed him around like goslings. Patricia wasn't sure why she hadn't just closed the Academy, and taken that away from him, too. Maybe it was because the idea of a Castiel with too much time on his hands made her nervous.

In any event, the couple was still not nearly submissive enough for Patricia. Here they were now in Castiel's office, smiling, kissing each other, and talking about openly flouting the brand-new edict that Patricia had just issued this morning. How dare they? Patricia was God, not them. She had to do something about those two. But, what?

"It's a special day, today," Cas announced to his students. "My wife has graciously accepted my invitation to spend the day with us in class. She and I will be demonstrating various techniques that a person of smaller stature can use against a larger assailant."

"Today's lesson wouldn't have anything to do with this morning's edict, would it?" Ethan called out, and most of the students laughed.

"Shut up, Ethan," Gail said good-naturedly, and he smiled. She was pleased to see that Ethan was here, although the reason for it was a little on the ominous side. When Patricia had taken over, she had appointed a number of her own people to the Law Enforcement Department, and installed her own guards at the prison. Rumour had it that it was just a matter of time before Ethan was demoted, or relieved from his position altogether. He and Castiel were old friends, so his days were probably numbered.

But at least Ethan was always welcome at the Academy, and both he and Riley could assist Cas here. Cas looked at Ethan now. "As usual, our friend Ethan is very astute," their teacher said, with a grim smile. "I've restrained myself from speaking out up until this point, because I had really hoped that we would be able to work with the new administration. But now, I can see that my hopes were in vain. So I think we need to try a new tactic."

He reached out and took Gail's hand, holding it firmly. A couple of the students breathed in sharply, and Riley took a step towards the couple, as if he was contemplating doing something about it. Ever since the election, Riley hadn't quite been himself. Then again, no one had. They weren't really allowed to be themselves now, were they?

"There is nothing wrong with this," Cas said, showing their enjoined hands to the students. "This is love, pure and simple. No one has the right to tell you that you can't hold the hand of the one you love. No one."

Patricia was seething. This was open rebellion now. Those students were going to go out into Heaven's populace and tell everyone what they were seeing and hearing right now. She had to do something about Castiel. Many Angels still held him in very high regard. She had only been telling Castiel, Gail and Bobby some partial truths when she had told them about the results of the exit polls right after the election. Patricia had been caught up in the euphoria of her victory, and the looks of devastation on their faces, so she had focused on the most negative things that the Angels had had to say. And there had been those types of comments, of course. But there had also been many, many positive comments, although Patricia hadn't bothered to tell them about those. As it was, she had been scared, and scared badly, by the closeness of the vote, and when Riley had asked for the re-count, a large part of Patricia had truly believed that the re-count was going to go in Castiel's favour.

It hadn't, of course, but in several ways, it almost felt like it had. She'd heard talk about certain groups of Angels who were contemplating organizing protests against some of Patricia's new edicts. So far there hadn't been any, but if Castiel was speaking out against them now, it would only be a matter of time.

When Patricia had looked in on the couple in their suite, besides the depravity she'd seen between the couple, she'd also heard them railing about her, and her administration. What was WRONG with Patricia? Gail had said, frustrated and angry. Why had she gone all Xavier on them, all of a sudden? Patricia couldn't believe it. They had no idea what was going on with her? How could they not? She had been left alone with Lucifer that day. Lucifer. What on earth did they think? That she and Satan had had a tea party?

"I still wonder if he tried something with her that day," Gail had mused aloud, as if reading Patricia's mind.

"I doubt that could be true," Cas said, frowning. "She surely would have said something in all this time, if that were the case."

"I guess you're right," Gail replied, putting her feet in his lap. "Still, I wish we hadn't had everything turned off that day. I'm sure there wouldn't have been anything we could have done, but I still feel kind of bad about it."

But before Patricia could react to Gail's apparent admission of remorse, Gail went on to say, "It was for a good cause, though, as I recall." She giggled. "I know Bobby was mad, but between you and me, I think it was just because he hates to pee so much. Otherwise, I don't even think he would have minded being a human again."

Cas had smiled faintly. "You could be right about that. I feel the same way you do, in a way. It WAS too bad we weren't there, but we deserved our private time together, after what we'd just been through. No one really understands how much those Tablet quests took out of us." He had taken her socks off her feet now, and he was kneading her feet with his hands. Gail had lain back against the throw pillows, watching Cas rub her feet. "Maybe we should open up a spa in your name," she had quipped. "You can teach the Angels how to do THIS. Get a few good-looking guys to learn your technique, and I guarantee you, you'll have some very happy females. Especially the ones that keep insisting on wearing high heels to the office."

But by then, he had started to kiss her toes, and he had shifted both of her feet so that he was holding them in one hand. He reached up with the other to undo her pants, and he slipped a couple of fingers in-between her legs, gently stroking her. She squirmed, and he said, "Shhhh. Hold on a minute."

"Cas," she breathed. He licked the side of her foot, smiling, and she whimpered. Now she was wriggling from side to side, straining to move her hips forward, closer to his hand. "Hold still, my darling," he said softly, and she said, "Cas, please. I can't." The instant she said that, he relented. He put one of her legs on either side of his body, stripped off her pants, and lowered his head to her, lapping at her with his tongue. Then she cried out, holding his head, squeezing him with her thighs as if trying to hold him there. Like she was afraid he would leave. He loved it when she cried out with joy like this. They had such little pleasure in their lives these days outside of this apartment.

Patricia had snapped off the monitor angrily well before that point. The last thing she'd needed was to see those two, fornicating yet again. They had admitted their guilt in what had happened to her. That was all she cared about. But all they seemed to care about was their own selfish pleasure.

And now, as she watched them at the Academy, holding hands and proclaiming their defiance, Patricia lost it. It was just too much. Time to rip those two apart. Whatever it took. Patricia didn't care anymore. How dare Gail stand there, smiling happily? She didn't know what real pain was. But she would. Oh, yes. She would.

Patricia picked up the phone, and when Scott answered, she snapped, "Get over here."

When Scott entered the High Office, he looked around and whistled. "Nice."

"Never mind," Patricia said crossly. "I want you to go over to the Academy just before the noon break and tell Gail that you need to talk to her in private, in her office. You were talking a big game before, you and your sister. But I didn't get one result, not from either one of you."

"They're disgustingly faithful to each other," Scott said, shrugging. "Besides, I didn't give it my 'A' game."

"When I first sent you and your sister out, you both promised me that you would be able to accomplish what you set out to do!" Patricia shouted. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't smite you right now, where you stand! Do you realize who you're talking to?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry," Scott said respectfully. He didn't respect Patricia, of course, but he didn't want her to smite him into oblivion, either. "What are your instructions?"

"I want you to get her in that office of hers, lock the doors, and soil her," Patricia said with gritted teeth.

"'Soil her'?" Scott repeated, his eyebrow raised.

"Do not test me!" Patricia yelled. She waved her hand, and a bolt of white light shot past Scott's head, so close that it ruffled his hair. "You go to that Academy, take a pair of handcuffs from the weapons cabinet, and have your way with her! Soil her! Hurt and humiliate her! Let HER see how it feels. She'll never want her husband to touch her again. Tell your sister to keep Castiel busy, and if she can get him to sin with her while she's at it, so much the better! Do not come back to me with any excuses. If you cannot come back and tell me that she is ruined, then do not come back at all!"

Patricia's hair had come out of the bun she wore, and it was hanging in her face now. Her face was beet-red, and she grabbed a sharpened pencil from her desk and raked it from her chin down her neck, opening up a gushing wound.

Scott looked at her with wide eyes. Holy crap. The woman was insane. The woman they had elected God was foaming-at-the-mouth, straitjacket-worthy, batcrap crazy. "Yes, Ma'am," he said again, quickly exiting the Office.

Patricia stood there breathing heavily for a moment. Then she waved her hand over herself, healing her wound and cleaning up the blood. That was one advantage to being God. She could do it all herself now, and no one would be the wiser. She had been trying to be better about harming herself now that she was in the Office, but Castiel and Gail made her so agitated that she couldn't seem to help it. Maybe she would finally have some peace of mind once she was able to learn that their spirits had been broken.

Vincent was in Cathy's office in the back, looking through her special files. She'd kept records on every kid that she had sold for him. He pulled a few files, slapping the front pages down on the photocopier and pushing the button.

"What are you doing?" Cathy asked him curiously.

Vincent looked up at her, but her tone had been properly respectful, so he shrugged. "Just taking note of a few potential soldiers," he said offhandedly. "Once I get a hold of those Books, I'm going to send out the call. But until I do, I want to get an idea of what the talent pool is like out there." He frowned. "Regrettably, it looks like my daughter the Angel won't be available for a while. Even I can't penetrate that seal. But if I have to do without her, I want some kids who have some chops."

He made a few more copies and stuffed the pages in his jacket pocket. He purposely dropped the remainder of the files on the floor. "Clean up your office, it looks like a pigsty," he deadpanned. Wisely, Cathy said nothing. She realized that Vincent was spoiling for a fight. He'd told her that a female Angel named Patricia had won the election in Heaven, and he seemed angry about it. Apparently, both the Angel Gail and her husband, the ancient and famous Castiel, had been on the slate, and Vincent had very much wanted one or the other of them to win. Imagine having God at your beck and call. But now, Heaven was sealed by God's own hand, and Vincent currently had no access to the powers that the Angels could provide. And until he obtained the Books, his own powers had their limitations.

Without another word to her, Vincent popped himself out of Cathy's office.

"I really enjoyed your demonstrations with Gail," Pamela said to Cas. "They were very instructive. I was going to ask her, but now that she's gone, I wonder if you can show me the one where she flipped you right over her head and you landed flat on your back? That was impressive." She was being extra sweet and flattering, trying to stay on Cas's good side. When Scott had arrived a short while ago, he had discreetly passed his sister a note that outlined Patricia's wishes, albeit in very vague terms. Scott was going to keep the image of Patricia taking off her mask of sanity to himself, at least for the time being. His first thought, when he'd seen her like that, was of blackmail. Surely she wouldn't want the Angels to know how crazy she truly was. Perhaps he should have a little chat with her about that. But first, Scott would do as Patricia had ordered. If she was pleased with him, she might be in a better mood to negotiate a reward. If not, he had a small, old-fashioned tape recorder hidden away that he could slip into his pocket when he went to see her next. Patricia had seized the computers and the cell phones, but she had left the older technology alone, for the most part. She had used a tape against Castiel, so it would be sweet irony if Scott used a tape against her, wouldn't it?

But in the meantime, Scott had absolutely no problem with the concept of violating Gail. It wouldn't be his first time. The summer before he and Pamela had crashed their cars, ending up here, Scott had taken one of his classmates to his private dorm room after buying her an expensive dinner and pinned her to the bed, and when she'd said no, he had proceeded anyway. She had liked it; Scott was sure she did. She had been wriggling like crazy underneath him, expressing herself loudly. But when he'd eventually had his fill of her and had let her go, she had gone straight to the campus police and accused him of rape. Rape? Scott had been astonished. Rape? Him? He was good-looking, rich, and damn good in bed. As if he would have to rape anybody. So his father had had to throw a fair amount of cash at the problem, but eventually it had gone away, and Scott had sailed right through the next school year. Well, until he and Pamela had had their street race, of course.

So Pamela had read her brother's note, and she was attempting to hold Cas back in the gym so he wouldn't go looking for his wife during the break. Pamela had been frustrated about her lack of progress with Castiel too, but she had been patient, biding her time until something broke. At least she was able to be with him every day. Although, she had been pissed off when he had brought Gail this morning. Cas's wife looked at Pamela as if she knew exactly what the girl was thinking. But she couldn't know that, of course. If she did, she would have marched up to Pamela and smacked her right in the face.

But now, Scott had advised that he was finally going for it with Gail, and Pamela didn't want to lose the bet. Luckily, she and Cas were alone at the moment. Because it was the noon break, there was nothing to be put away for the day. So Riley and Ethan had gone for a walk, and Cas was left here by himself.

He sighed. Ever since the incidents before the election, Cas had made it a point not to be alone with Pamela, or to do any mat work with her. But the door to the room was wide open, and he was sure that one of his assistants would be back soon, or one of his students would. Angels didn't generally take long breaks; it wasn't as if they ate lunch, or anything. Gail might even be back herself, depending on what Scott had needed to see her for. Scott had told her that there were a couple of board members who wanted to see her urgently in her office, and she had been excited to hear that. Maybe they wanted to join her and Cas in the rebellion, she'd joked grimly, whispering in Cas's ear. She had realized, perhaps belatedly, that it probably wasn't the best idea to just stand there and openly defy Patricia, when God could see and hear everything. But hopefully, she was a little hard of hearing, Gail had quipped in a whisper.

"All right, Pamela. Stand behind me, and I'll show you," Cas said.

"There's nobody here," Gail said to Scott. "You said there were board members here."

"Did I? Oh, sorry," Scott said casually. "I meant that they're on the way."

"Oh," Gail said. She walked to her desk and sat down in the chair behind it. Scott followed her and came around the desk, leaning against it. He smiled down at her.

Gail looked up at the young Angel. What was it about him and personal space? There were two perfectly good chairs across from her. "Ummmm...what?" she asked him.

"Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?" Scott asked her.

"What? Why?" she inquired, curious.

"Because you're not giving up," he said softly. "Because Patricia has been trying to keep you down ever since the election, but you're still in there pitching, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," she said, nodding. "What's the alternative? To just give up? We can't let her do that to us, Scott. And I've gotta say, I appreciate all of you sticking with me like this."

He took her hand. "Of course. We're with you all the way, Boss Lady."

Gail tried to extricate her hand from his, but Scott held on tighter. "You're an inspiration to all of us," he told her.

"Thanks, but you're really gonna have to let go of my hand," Gail said. She was trying to affect a flippant tone so as not to hurt his feelings. Scott was a hand-holder. She'd seen him grab Liz's hand many, many times. Liz had merely giggled, then pulled her hand away. But it kind of creeped Gail out. The only Angel she wanted holding her hand was Cas. "Haven't you heard?" she went on, still using a light tone. "Patricia has banned hand-holding. So you'd better break yourself of the habit. Maybe take up crocheting, or something."

Scott smiled, letting go of her hand. If she resisted much longer, he was going to have to use those handcuffs. But he really wanted her cooperation. It was much better when they played ball, Scott thought. He could definitely make it worth her while. Gail's husband walked around Heaven like he had a stick up his butt most of the time. And that thing with his blade? Classic overcompensation, Scott was sure.

"Maybe I WILL take up crocheting," he said softly. "I've been told I'm very good with my hands."

Gail looked at him uncertainly. Was he flirting with her? She honestly couldn't tell. She sent a message to Cas on their Originals frequency. Patricia had shut down outbound communications on Angel Radio, but of course, they had their own private channel that she didn't know about. Scott wasn't really doing anything wrong, but he was making her feel a little uncomfortable now. So, Gail asked Cas if he could stop by her office. It was weird. She was just getting some kind of a strange feeling from Scott. But maybe she was totally off base here. It wasn't as if she knew a lot about flirting.

Cas heard Gail's call, and his forehead wrinkled. She had sounded offhanded about the request, as if he could suit himself. But if she wanted him to go to her office, of course he would. The trouble was, he was grappling with Pamela at the moment.

"Gail called. She wants me to stop by her office when I have a moment," Cas told Pamela.

She frowned. "Can it wait a couple more minutes? I've almost got this, I think."

Cas thought about it. He supposed so. Gail hadn't sounded as if she had required his presence immediately. So he sent her a message back, telling her he'd be along in just a few minutes. Pamela smiled. "Thanks, Cas. I won't keep you too much longer, I promise. Just a couple more times, and I should be good."

Scott spent another minute or two trying to charm Gail, but she got restless, and then she got suspicious. "What's going on here, Scott?" she said warily. "Where are those board members?"

He tried to smile. "I guess they're just running late."

"Well, I'm going back to the Academy," she told him, starting to rise from her chair. "Tell them to come find me there."

He let out a frustrated breath. "Fine. We'll do this the hard way, then." He grabbed her wrist and whipped the handcuffs out of his pocket.

"Wow, are you guys ever terrible at that praying thing," Gabriel said, popping into the bunker. "Just so you know, for future reference, swearing and saying, 'get your feathery ass over here' doesn't work on us."

"It does on Cas," Dean retorted.

"Well, he's got some kind of weird soft spot for you guys. I never understood it, myself," Gabriel said disdainfully. He looked at Frank. "Hey there, Gail's brother, whose name I can't remember."

"Frank," he said tersely.

"Anyway, I came this time because I know what all your panties are bunched up about," Gabriel told the men.

"We didn't know what else to do," Sam said earnestly. "We've prayed and prayed to them, and Bobby, and the rest of them, and nobody's answering. We've tried calling Cas's cell phone, and Chuck's, and the numbers don't work anymore."

Gabriel nodded. "I know. Same as me. Nothing. Nada. And before you ask, I tried to go there, and I can't do it. I've got a bad feeling about this, boys."

"What are we gonna do?" Frank said, agitated.

Gabriel looked at him. "Do? What do you mean, 'do'?"

"Do you think they're OK?" Sam persisted.

Gabe opened his mouth to make a smartass remark, and then he closed it again. Truthfully? He didn't think they WERE okay. This ominous silence could only mean one thing. "How badly do you want to find out?" he asked them.

"Why?" Dean asked him, trying to be patient. Ol' Gabe got a little prickly when you barked at him.

"Because, I hate to 'go there', as the expression goes, but aside from Dad, there's only one guy who might be able to get us some answers," Gabriel retorted.

"Don't say it," Frank groaned.

Gabriel's lips twitched briefly. "Crowley."

"He said it," Frank lamented, throwing his hands up in disgust.

"Hey, what can I tell you?" Gabriel said with a half-shrug. "Whether we like it or not, he's the only other guy besides me with the chops to try to get through to them."

Dean sighed. "Ok, let's go."

Gabriel regarded him coolly. "What do you mean, 'let's'?"

"Come on, Gabriel. We care about them, too," Sam cajoled.

Gabe sighed. On second thought, maybe he SHOULD take these guys with him. If he and Crowley were alone, who knew what could happen? As it was, he was sure that the King wouldn't be very happy to see him, alive and well. Oh, well. Too bad.

"OK," the Archangel said. "Hop on." He extended his arms, and the men came forward to put their hands on him in order to be teleported. Gabriel smirked at Frank. "Hands above the waist, Sunshine."

Frank opened his mouth, but before he could form a suitable retort, Gabriel had already popped them out.

Gail was screaming in Cas's head now, and his heart stopped. Something was very, very wrong. Pamela had him pinned to the mat. "Let me up, immediately," he told her.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?" she murmured silkily. "Your wife is cheating on you, right now. There's no reason we can't have a good time, too." She rubbed her body against his.

Cas was panicked now. Gail was still screaming, saying something about handcuffs. He flung Pamela away from him, so forcefully that she flew across the room. She hit her head on a wall sconce and she slid to the floor, leaving trail of blood down the wall as she went.

Cas popped out of the gymnasium and over to Gail's office. He blasted the door open, then stopped short. Scott and Gail were at her desk, and they were struggling. Scott had one of her wrists handcuffed to the armrest of her chair, and Gail was beating at him with her free hand, trying to buck him off of her.

Cas rushed forward, removing his blade from his jacket pocket as he went. Scott had punched Gail in the face in an effort to subdue her, and the sight of blood on his wife's face made Cas lose his mind. He hauled Scott off of her and punched the young Angel, sending him flying across the room. Then he ran after Scott and jumped on top of him, punching him again, then again.

Scott's face was a bloody mess now, but he sneered at Cas. "What are YOU doing here? Is my sister losing her touch, or were you just that quick?"

Cas was confused for a moment. "Your sister?" What was Scott talking about?

"Never mind," Scott said. "If you're done using me as a punching bag, I'll go see Patricia and have her slap you in jail. Then, once you're locked up, your wife and I will have to have another little rendezvous."

"That won't be happening," Cas said through gritted teeth. He put his blade to Scott's throat. "You put handcuffs on my wife, and struck her. How are you going to explain that? You'll be the one going to jail, not me."

As Scott cursed himself, realizing that Castiel was right, Patricia was watching the scene intently. She'd been extremely angry when Castiel had first burst into Gail's office. How had he known? Patricia knew the two of them had their Angel Radio jammed, because she had heard them talking about it in the perceived privacy of their suite. But what she didn't know was that they had their own private frequency, due to their status as Originals.

But then, as Patricia continued to watch, she'd started to think that she might be able to use what was happening there to her advantage. The only problem was that Castiel was right; Scott had used handcuffs on Gail, and punched her in the face. There was no way that Patricia could have Castiel arrested under those circumstances. He was simply defending his wife.

But then Castiel did something so shocking that she could not believe what she was seeing. He appeared to reconsider.

Cas was thinking now about Xavier, the tribunal, and Patricia. What on earth would ever have led him to believe that he would be treated fairly here? There was absolutely no precedent for it. Was he really willing to put Gail's safety at risk by gambling that Patricia would lock up the right individual?

"On second thought, I don't think I'll risk it," Cas said calmly. He took his blade away from Scott's throat. Scott smirked, because he'd misunderstood. But Gail said, "No, Cas. Don't."

He glanced up at her. His poor, dear wife, with her bleeding face and worried expression. Cas could picture Patricia hauling him off to jail and Scott laying in wait for his wife, with his handcuffs and his evil intentions.

Cas changed the grip on his Angel blade and plunged it into Scott's chest, once, twice, then three times, making very sure the young Angel was dead.

The Snark-O-Meter was at an all-time high when Crowley and Gabriel faced each other, Frank thought.

When the King of Hell had appeared at the crossroads, he'd suspected the reason that Moose and Squirrel were calling on him now. And he wasn't particularly surprised to see that Frank was with them. Maybe he should try to come up with a nickname for Frank now, too, if he was going to start fancying himself a third Winchester brother. He wondered if he could get away with calling Frank "Adam", or if Sam and Dean would go off their nuts. Then again, perhaps he didn't want to use that particular name. Adam was Crowley and Castiel's father's name, after all, and they were all a little too uncomfortably related, as it was.

But Crowley was completely gobsmacked to see Gabriel with them. "You're dead," he blurted out.

"Clearly, I'm not," the Archangel said cheerfully. "I wish I'd gotten a picture of the look on your face, though."

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times, attempting to regroup. Then he said, "Why aren't you in Heaven, trying to emancipate Castiel and Gail, then?"

"What do you mean by that?" Frank said sharply.

"Oh, didn't your Archangel tell you?" Crowley said archly. "We've fallen into a sad state of affairs when you have to come to the King of Hell for news of Heaven. What do I look like, CNN?"

"More like Fox News," Sam quipped, and Dean looked at his brother. "I dunno, Sammy. Isn't Darth Vader's voice the one they use on CNN?"

Gabriel was looking at the brothers incredulously. He didn't remember them being quite this funny before. Then again, he used to spend so much time trying to be funny himself that he may not have given them the chance. Was he actually becoming more mature? A scary prospect, indeed.

Somewhat unbelievably, even though he had appreciated the humour, Frank was the one to say, "Guys, let's focus, here. Cas and Gail. Come on."

"In any event, you're wasting your time," Crowley said indifferently. "Patricia won the election, and she's got Heaven on lockdown. I hope Castiel doesn't owe any of you money, because you likely won't be seeing him again for a long, long time. Nor Gail, or Bobby, either." He looked at Gabriel. "And the fact that you're here, and not there, speaks volumes. She's obviously used her Godly powers to keep you out."

"Well, what about you?" Gabriel persisted. "I know YOU can get in."

Crowley gave him a baleful stare. "You're assuming that I give a flying fig about what you Angels do. Well, I don't. My halo's been officially retired now, and I have quite enough to do in Hell. What do I care if the Angels are in Heaven? The last time I looked, that was where Angels were supposed to be."

Gabriel let out a frustrated breath. "OK, well, you know what, Crowley? Just remember that you took that stand, when either Raguel or Ammit or that other guy get their hands on the Books. Good luck dealing with THAT on your own."

"Ammit?" Crowley said sharply.

"Ohhhh. Don't tell me there's something His Majesty doesn't know," Gabriel said sarcastically.

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Dean barked. "What does any of that have to do with Cas and Gail?"

"Nothing, and everything," Gabriel said enigmatically.

"Wait a minute," Sam said. "Lucifer said something about the Book of the Dead, right before we killed him. Is that what you guys are talking about?"

"Yeah, but it would take too long to explain, right now," Gabriel said. "But, put it this way: Lucifer was small potatoes compared to the problems we're all gonna have if any one of the three of them get their hands on those things."

"Raguel? There's a name I haven't heard in centuries," Crowley commented.

Gabriel smirked wickedly. "Well, you might be hearing it a lot more, soon. In fact, he might be your new stepfather. Wouldn't that be hilarious?"

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Crowley said angrily.

"Well, well. Look who cares, all of a sudden," Gabe said happily. "Get your head out of your ass, Your Kingship. Your mom and Raguel have been seeing a lot of each other. He's after the Books, and she hates your guts. That can only be good for you, right? And doesn't little Ammit still hold a grudge against you for that incident in Iberia in the early 17th Century?" Crowley looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, that's right, I know about that," Gabriel went on. "I know about a lot of things. Just like I know that Rowena and Raguel are dating."

"Dating, my arse," Crowley scoffed. "My dear mother doesn't 'date'. She's using him, pure and simple."

"More like HE'S using HER," Gabe said affably. "But the way I see it, either way, you lose. And if you won't help us now, don't expect us to help you then."

Crowley frowned. "Well, it would seem that you have me by the short and curlies."

"Thanks for that disgusting mental image," Frank piped up. "Now, can you get into Heaven, or not?"

"Sadly, I cannot," Crowley said calmly. "In this instance, Patricia has used her Godly powers to their full advantage. And, before you ask, she has disabled the Hotline between our two offices. I tried to ring her the other day, just to make sure, and I got a busy signal."

"A busy signal?" Dean asked him. "Well, why didn't you just try again, later?"

Crowley smirked. "Once again, proving that Moose got most of the brains in the family. Thank God you're pretty. It wasn't a busy signal, per se. Who else would she be talking to? It was the kind of busy signal you get when someone rips the phone out of the wall. So, as you can see, even if I were inclined to help you, sadly, I am unable." The King of Hell looked at Gabriel. "I suggest you tend to your knitting, and I'll tend to mine." Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Patricia couldn't believe it. Castiel had just handed her the excuse she'd been looking for, on a golden platter. She sent her task force to Gail's office immediately, the instant she had seen Castiel murder Scott in cold blood. This was fantastic. Better than she could have hoped for. She had been telling people all this time that Castiel was a violent brute, a mad dog killer. And he had just proven her right.

Todd led the group into Gail's office. Four burly guards made a beeline for Cas, while Todd went straight to Gail. He touched his baton to the cuff that was around her wrist and holding her to the chair, and it fell off. Then he caught the handcuffs before they fell to the floor.

Once freed, Gail ran around the desk to where the men were hauling Cas to his feet, and stripping him of his weapon. They had special handcuffs and chains that Patricia had reinforced with the Seal, making them impossible to escape from. They were putting shackles on him now, too.

Gail looked sadly at her husband. She couldn't believe it. Now, he had given Patricia the rope to hang him with. And Gail had thought that not being able to openly hold his hand was going to be her worst problem today.

"Doesn't this look familiar?" Todd gloated. Gail glared at him. She remembered this guy. He had been one of the guards at the jail when she and Cas had been held there during the tribunal, and he had been in Jason's pocket. "Didn't they sweep you out with the rest of the trash?" Gail asked him tartly.

Todd smiled nastily. "Still the same smart mouth, I see. Reminds me of the old days. Well, guess what? It looks like you might be able to re-live the past in a number of ways, now. Maybe this time Castiel's execution will actually take."

"Scott attacked me!" Gail exclaimed. "He handcuffed me to that chair and punched me in the face! Cas was defending me! You can't execute him for that!"

Todd looked at her calmly. "You're right." He reached out and touched her face with his hand, healing her wound. Then he smirked. "And as far as the alleged handcuffs go, I don't see any, do you?" He slipped them in his pocket.

Gail's heart sank. So it was going to be like that, was it?

"Why are you doing this?" Cas asked Todd, who shrugged. "Because you've had things your own way for far too long, Castiel," Todd replied. "Because we all lost our jobs when you came back from the dead. Your little buddy Ethan took over, and the rest of us were on the outside, looking in. But Patricia recognizes real talent when she sees it. Once I take you to the jail and lock you up, I'll be running the Law Enforcement division. But don't worry about Ethan. Patricia's gonna let him keep on teaching at the Academy. They'll need to replace you, won't they?"

"No," Gail said angrily. "This is not going to happen. Not again. Scott was a sleazeball, who tried to rape me. I'm going to tell everyone. You guys are NOT going to railroad Cas again. He was defending me."

"That's not what we saw, when we came into the room," Todd said blithely. "We saw you and the dead guy getting busy, and Castiel hauling him off you, and killing him." He shook his head slowly. "If you want some free advice, I would have picked a more discreet place to cheat on your husband."

"I spoke to Scott before the election, after I caught him looking at Gail inappropriately," Cas said through gritted teeth. "I warned him not to do it again."

"Oh, so we have premeditation, now!" Todd said delightedly. "Keep on talking, Castiel. Dig that hole deeper."

Gail was staring at Cas, wide-eyed. He'd never told her that. But she was afraid to say anything now, for fear of making it even worse. Yeah, right. As if it could be worse.

"Oh, and by the way, Patricia has a number of young Angels lined up who are prepared to swear that Scott was a nice, sweet guy, who would never do anything like what the two of you are suggesting," Todd went on.

"Not to mention Scott's poor sister, Pamela, who Castiel brutally attacked in the gymnasium of the Academy," Patricia added, walking into the office. "I just came from there. She's got a very bad head wound. I did what I could, but only time will tell if she'll ever be back to normal. And now, we'll have to tell her that the animal who attacked her is also her brother's killer. That poor young lady. I tried to warn her. I tried to warn all the Angels. And now, we have this."

"Scott attacked Gail," Cas said angrily. "You know he did. I know you were watching. You saw it."

She looked at him, an expression of smug satisfaction on her face. "No, Castiel. What I saw was a man who is known to be dangerously unbalanced, overreacting to a male who was standing in close proximity to his wife. You are not just a criminal, you are criminally insane. We have a special room all prepared for you at the jail, a place where you will be unable to harm others, or yourself."

Patricia put one hand on Cas's arm and the other on Gail's, and suddenly, they were standing in a remote corridor in Heaven's prison. Todd moved ahead of them and unlocked the metal cell door, pulling it open. It was a very small cell, with a hard stone floor. But the walls were all padded.

"Say your goodbyes," Patricia said to Cas and Gail. "I'll give you ten minutes."

"What do you mean, 'say our goodbyes'?" Gail said, bewildered. "Even during the tribunal, I was allowed to visit Cas."

"Oh, we couldn't possibly allow that," Patricia said cheerfully. "He is much too unbalanced. It's for your own safety. Perhaps that can change, once he is properly medicated. But, we'll have to see."

"Should I take the chains off, Ma'am?" Todd asked Patricia.

She appeared to consider. "No, I think not. We'd better not take that chance."

Gail was crying now, and Cas was in a white-hot rage. This was unbelievable. "You have Godlike powers, yet you are too afraid to release me just for a moment so that I can embrace my wife?" he yelled.

Patricia regarded him coolly. "You brought this on yourself, Castiel. I am being extremely generous in giving you the ten minutes. Actually, it's nine, now."

Gail stepped forward. "Never mind, sweetie." She put her arms around his neck. "Bend down and give me a kiss." He did, and then she nuzzled his cheek. "I love you, Cas. Please don't worry. We'll figure it out. We'll figure something out. You didn't do anything wrong. He attacked me. I'll tell everybody."

Cas kissed her gently on the forehead. That wasn't going to make a difference, and they both knew it. Patricia was God. Xavier hadn't even been God, but he had still succeeded in having Cas executed, hadn't he? Still, Patricia was not talking execution; at least, not yet. As long as there was life, there was hope, wasn't there?

"I love you, my darling," he said. "Please don't cry. We'll figure something out. Of course we will."

Gail reached up and touched his face with both hands. "I won't rest until I get you out of here. Whatever it takes, Cas, I promise you," she told him.

"Be careful," Patricia said sharply. "That sounds almost as if it could be a threat. I think we need to separate you two, right now."

Gail pulled Cas's face toward hers and kissed him on the mouth. She opened her mouth, searching for his tongue with hers. If they were going to be kept apart for who knew how long, she wanted a really good kiss. If Patricia didn't want to see, she could avert her eyes. Their ten minutes wasn't even close to being up yet.

Cas gave her his tongue. How could he not? He was thinking along the same lines as Gail.

"Stop that disgusting display!" Patricia snapped. "I am so glad I will never have to look at you doing that ever again!"

Gail broke the kiss, wrinkling her forehead. "What do you mean, 'ever again'? When would you have ever seen us kiss like that? We only do that in private. I only did it now because I have no idea when you'll let us see each other again."

"Never mind," Patricia said tersely. "Lock him away."

The guards hustled Cas into the cell, pushed him to the floor, and then they came out, slamming the door shut behind them. Gail could no longer see him. The door was solid metal, with only a small, barred window at the top, and the window was too high for her to see through.

Patricia grabbed Gail's wrist roughly, and winked her out of the prison. The place was covered in sigils, as it had always been, but Patricia was God. She could go anywhere she wanted.

She looked at Gail with contempt. "Now, you will see what true unhappiness is like," she hissed. Then she disappeared.


	4. Slipping Into Darkness

Chapter 4 - Slipping Into Darkness

A week passed, then another, and things remained status quo. Every day, Gail would go to Patricia's office, begging her to let her see Cas, and every day, Patricia would refuse, citing Gail's own safety as the reason. Gail had cried and screamed, promising that she would conduct herself however Patricia wanted, if she could only just see him for five minutes. Please. If Patricia didn't want them kissing, or even touching each other, she could send a guard in there as a chaperone. Gail didn't care. She just wanted to see her husband, and talk to him for a minute. Make sure he was all right. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. But Patricia continued to refuse. Begging and pleading didn't work, nor did any appeal for sympathy. So then, Gail started to get mad. She succeeded in reining herself in, but just barely. Railing at Patricia wasn't going to get her anywhere. Then the frustration set in. The trouble was that they were dealing with an obstinate, unreasonable person, who also just happened to be God. Cut off from their family and friends on Earth. Not that they would have been able to do anything about the current situation, of course. But still, it would have been nice to have the support.

As far as Cas was concerned, he was attempting to use the time constructively, thinking of ways that he and Gail could present his defense. Then, when the hours stretched into days, he kept up his own morale by imagining himself and Gail together on happy occasions, such as Christmas, and the weddings their family had had, including their own, of course. Kissing, holding hands, laughing together. Gail teasing Dean, and Dean calling them "Mr. and Mrs. Buzzkill". Saying Cas couldn't even get insulted right. But Cas wasn't being insulted when Dean did that, of course. He was being loved. Each member of their family had a different way of behaving. Like right now, for instance, Dean and Frank would be drinking beer, angrily discussing what they were going to do to Patricia once they got their hands on her. For by now, they would have figured out that the only thing that would have kept Cas and Gail from communicating with them for this long was the scenario that they had feared. They would have no idea how bad things had actually gotten, of course. Sam would be researching the lore, trying to figure out if there was any way for them to access Heaven. They might have even prayed to Gabriel for his help, and Gabriel might have even come. But if Gabriel wasn't here now, beating down the door, then that meant that Patricia had been successful in keeping him out, as she'd threatened. Castiel thought and thought, but he couldn't come up with anything they could possibly do about the current situation.

Then, as the days turned into a week, then two, the depression set in. Was Patricia going to just leave him here to rot? Shouldn't they have started his trial by now?

Just when he'd reached his lowest point, Cas could hear the door being unlocked. It swung open, and Patricia walked in. She snapped her fingers, and a ball of white light appeared near the ceiling, illuminating the cell.

Cas squinted against the sudden bright light, but he said nothing, waiting for her to speak. But Patricia didn't speak. She just stood there, looking down at him down there on the floor. He was still in shackles, and the chains were attached to the wall. Even if he'd wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to attack anyone. That was just one reason why Patricia's claims that Gail couldn't visit because of safety reasons were absurd.

Finally, Cas broke first. He cleared his throat. "How is Gail?" he asked her.

Patricia shrugged. "All right, I suppose. Well, as good as can be expected, anyway. She cries a lot."

Her remark was designed to stab Cas right in the heart, and it did, of course. It also made him angry. "What is the point of this?" he asked Patricia. "If you mean to put me on trial, why don't you just do it?"

"Who said anything about a trial?" Patricia said calmly. "Why would we need a trial? We all saw you kill that young man. A trial would be just a waste of everyone's time."

Cas let out a frustrated breath. "Fine. Then at least tell me how long you intend to keep me here."

Patricia shrugged again. "Until you can prove that you're no longer a danger to others," she told him.

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" he said through clenched teeth.

"I was wondering that myself," she said, folding her arms in front of her. "Actually, I was wondering if we even want you wandering around Heaven at all. Once a psychotic killer, always a psychotic killer."

"You keep calling me those kinds of names, but I'm not unbalanced," Cas said calmly, trying to appeal to her sense of reason. "There has never been any evidence of that. I murdered that Angel because he was attacking my wife. That's the truth, pure and simple. That is not insanity."

Patricia was silent for a moment. Then she said, "You can try to make all the excuses you want, but insane people frequently claim that they are not insane. That is why you cannot be allowed out in decent society."

Cas pursed his lips tightly. "At least let me see Gail, then, if only for a few minutes."

Now Patricia smiled, but it was a funny little smile, containing no amusement whatsoever. "I'll tell you the same thing I tell her every day, when she comes to my office, begging to see you. Crying her little eyes out. You are criminally insane. You are nothing but a cold-blooded killer."

"Let me see my wife," Cas said in his quiet voice. "I am entitled to receive a visitor."

"You're entitled to nothing," Patricia snapped. "You and that wife of yours. You think you're so special. You think the universe revolves around your wants and your needs, don't you? Well, I have a news flash for you, Castiel. You have ceased to matter. You will sit there just like that until you shrivel up into a ball of nothing, and you will never see your wife again!"

Cas jumped to his feet, straining at his shackles. "You are the one who is insane! You can't do this! Who do you think you are?"

"I'm God, that's who," she retorted. "I'm God, and you're not. I'll tell Gail to go ahead and remarry. A little slut like her won't be able to go too long without a husband. Or, she can kill herself. I don't care. But I hope you both stay alive, so that you can each suffer for a long, long time. Just like I do, every day."

Cas was incredulous. Patricia really WAS crazy. She was the crazy one, not him. "You won't get away with this!" he yelled, still straining at the shackles, even though he knew it was pointless.

She smiled again. "Oh, but I already have," she said to him.

Cas began to shout, and rant, and swear, and by the time the doctor came to inject him with the sedative, his voice was almost gone.

The little girl was sitting on the sidewalk, bawling at the top of her lungs. Wailing as if it were the end of the world, when all she'd done was fallen down and skinned her knee.

"Here," Abigail said, half-affectionately and half-impatiently. She got down on the sidewalk and put her hand on the child's bloody wound. The wound disappeared from the girl's knee, transferring to Abigail's, and then, it was gone. Had it been a more serious wound, it would have remained there for a longer period of time. Once, Abigail had come upon a boy who had been climbing a spiked metal fence. He'd slipped and punctured his hand clean through on one of the spikes. She'd healed him, but she'd had the hole in her hand for a couple of days afterwards.

Gail's mother mainly healed kids, because it was kids who seemed to get themselves into those types of situations most often. Also, when you told a child not to say anything to anyone about what you'd done, they tended to follow instructions, if you phrased it the right way. Adults were just too much trouble.

"Don't tell anybody what I just did, or I'll give it back, twice as bad," she said to the little girl now. Abigail may be an empath healer, but she was also lacking in social graces, and she didn't know how to behave around others. She had no idea that her warnings frequently caused the children she'd healed to have nightmares for months, and sometimes years, afterward. But what she said to them was highly effective, when it came to keeping their little mouths shut.

"Oh, and by the way, you didn't lose Teddy," she told the girl, rising to her feet. "Your cousin Annie stole him from your room, the last time she slept over." She smiled strangely, then walked off down the sidewalk, humming a little tune.

Another week passed, or maybe it was ten days. Cas was in a fog most of the time now. Patricia kept him well sedated. It was his own fault, in a way. Every time the sedation would wear off, he would start shouting at the top of his lungs, and rattling his chains. Someone must be able to hear. Someone must be able to help him.

He had opened up his frequencies wide, but Patricia had jammed everything, of course. Even the Originals' frequency would no longer work. That had been the most heartbreaking thing of all. At least if he'd had that, he and Gail would have been able to talk to each other in their heads, like they had in the days of the death squads. That had been a horrible time, but in its own way, this was worse. He couldn't talk to Gail, and they wouldn't let him see her. How was she doing? She must be going crazy by now.

She was, and she was currently taking her frustration and anger out on Ethan. She had marched into the Academy and grabbed him, popping him into Cas's office.

"What do you mean, there's nothing you can do?" she shouted at him.

Ethan sighed. "Look, Gail, I understand how you feel, but I'm not the Head of Law Enforcement any more. I'm not the anything, of anything. Patricia fired me."

Gail was so frustrated that she stamped her foot. "So what? You used to run the jail, didn't you? You've got to know of a way I can get in there!"

Ethan frowned. "Todd's in charge over there now, and he's one of Jason's brown shirts, from the old days. He and I never got along."

"What about the rest of the staff?" she persisted. "Don't you have anyone who owes you a favour, or anything? Or, just anybody who likes you? You were a good boss, I'm sure you were."

Ethan smiled, despite himself. "You're babbling, Gail."

She took a deep breath. "Are you going to help me, or am I going to have to march out there and get a weapon out of the cabinet?"

Their Angel friend shook his head slowly. Suddenly, he was playing the part of Dean Winchester. He knew that this lockdown of Heaven was really hard on her. Truth be told, Ethan could take or leave going to Earth. If he couldn't be with his family, he didn't really care one way or the other. And he didn't see a reunion with Karen and George anywhere on the radar, now that Patricia was God. She had made it quite clear that any friend of Cas and Gail's was an enemy of hers. But the Winchesters were like Cas and Gail's family, and there were Frank and Jody and the kids, of course. He understood how she felt.

"OK, Gail. Let's go see if we can cash in a favour or two," Ethan said, nodding.

But of course, even though both Gail and Ethan had been Angels for a number of years now, they had forgotten that God was everywhere, and she could see everyone. Patricia watched with grim amusement as Gail and Ethan went to see Kyle, one of the younger prison guards.

"How are you, Ethan?" Kyle said when his former boss appeared at his apartment door. "It's good to see you. Come on in."

But when Kyle's eyes fell upon Gail, his smile disappeared. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Don't ask me to do what I think you're going to ask me to do."

"Come on, Kyle," Ethan wheedled. "You know what she's doing isn't right."

"Do you know how much trouble I could get in?" Kyle protested.

"Don't you want to be able to live with yourself, Kyle? She's not even giving him due process," Ethan countered.

"I just want to see him for a couple of minutes. Please, Kyle," Gail begged the young guard. "You can watch us the whole time. Please. I just need to talk to him, to make sure he's OK."

Kyle sighed. He knew that what Patricia was doing wasn't right. He and Ethan had talked at length about the type of correctional system they thought was appropriate for Heaven, and also about each of the candidates who had been running for the Office. Kyle had been aware that Ethan was personally acquainted with three out of the four candidates, and he had quizzed his boss closely about them, Cas in particular. Was he a hero, or was he a murderer? He was both, and he was neither, Ethan had advised the young guard. It was complicated. But Ethan would follow Cas into battle in a heartbeat, and he would lay down his own life for Cas, if such a sacrifice was ever required.

These statements had made a lasting impression on Kyle. He had been watching the treatment that Cas had been receiving at the hands of Patricia and her "task force". Goons were what they were, pure and simple. Patricia would strut into the jail every few days and get the guards to open Cas's cell. Then she would just stand there and gloat, as Cas glowered at her. What the hell was the point of that? Sometimes, Cas would ask her how Gail was, or renew his pleas to see his wife. Other times, he would rail at Patricia, telling her that what she was doing was wrong, and that everyone knew it. She couldn't just keep him here like this. Then she would assure him that she could, and remind him that she was God, not him, and that he was never going to see his wife again. Then Cas would shout at her, straining at his bonds. Or, worse, he would start to weep. It had been more of the latter than the former lately, likely due to the new cocktail of medication that Patricia was subjecting Cas to. Patricia had brought in an alleged doctor to "examine" Cas, and the man had begun injecting Cas with some kind of drug that was supposed to help with his fits of rage. But, from everything that Kyle could see, it was Patricia who was responsible for those. If you put a grizzly bear in a cage, deprived him of sustenance, and poked him constantly with a sharp stick, how could you expect him not to roar in anger?

So Kyle had no choice but to relent and tell Gail he would sneak her into the prison to see Cas. She thanked him profusely, and he told her to come to the prison later that evening. Kyle would be working the night shift, and he would be there all alone.

Patricia's hand had moved towards the intercom button, to tell Velma to summon the men from the task force to her, but then, she hesitated. She'd wanted the couple to suffer, and they had. But this was a unique opportunity. Up until now, the couple had been suffering, but separately. Wouldn't it be even sweeter for each to see the other so desperately unhappy?

Cas heard the footsteps outside his cell door, and his heart sank. That horrible woman was back. He wished she would just leave him alone. She would come and stare at him for a while, then words would be exchanged, and then, she would have that man give him an injection. Then, the woman would dismiss the man and the guards, and talk to Cas, quietly and reasonably. But that was the worst thing, because by that time, whatever was in the shot was starting to do its work on him, and what she was saying sounded almost reasonable. And that was the scariest thing of all.

But the door didn't open this time. Instead, a face appeared in the small window at the top of the door.

"Cas?" Gail said softly.

He struggled to his feet. At first, he had exercised as well as he could within the restrictive dimensions of his shackles, but lately, Cas's muscles had begun to cramp up, and his motivation had begun to ebb.

His heart soared now, though. "Gail," he said hoarsely. He could see her face in the window. Her sweet, sweet face. She was backlit by the light filtering in from the hallway, and she looked like a literal Angel.

Because Cas was in a darkened cell, she could only make out his outline. Gail could picture him in her mind's eye, though. He would have a full beard, unless they had let him shave. It never took Cas long to grow facial hair. He always shaved very close, in consideration for her, but Cas was the kind of man for whom stubble was an almost permanent condition.

"How are you, my love?" Cas asked her, and Gail's tears began to flow. Look at where he was and what they were putting him through, and he was asking HER how SHE was.

"I'm fine, Cas," she wailed.

"No, you're not," he said softly. "And neither am I. She's doing something to me, Gail."

Her blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"She's been having me injected with some kind of substance. She claims it's a sedative, but I'm sure it's more than that," Cas told her. "I get very confused, sometimes."

"Why? Why would Patricia do that?" Gail exclaimed, alarmed.

"Who?" Cas asked. "Why would WHO do that?" Then there was a moment's silence, and then he said, "Is that her name?"

Gail's mouth fell open. He wasn't kidding around. She could hear the confusion in his voice. My God. This was worse than she had feared. The tears continued to stream down her cheeks. "I love you, Cas. I wish I could touch your face, or hold your hand." She had been hoping that Kyle would take pity on her and actually let her into Cas's cell, but he had been too skittish to do that. At least he'd relented and given her a box to stand on so she could look through the window that was at the top of the door. Not that there was much to see; her husband was just a silhouette to her at the moment.

"Oh, no. That would be wrong," Cas said in response to what she'd said, and now the alarm bells were really starting to go off. "What? What would be wrong, Cas?" she said softly.

"Physical contact is a Sin," he said gravely. "It leads to shame, and ruin."

Gail was astonished. Those shots must be brainwashing him, somehow.

"My wife and I used to engage in carnal acts all the time," Cas continued. "I thought that it was love, but God has told me that it is the Sin of Lust, and it has to be avoided."

Now Gail was terrified. "Kyle, please. I've got to get in there and talk to him face to face. Please," she begged the guard.

Kyle relented. He'd been shocked at what Cas was saying, too. So, THAT was what Patricia had been doing on her visits here, when she'd sent them all away. Obviously, whatever weird cocktail of drugs they were introducing into Cas's vessel's bloodstream had taken root, and they were poisoning his mind. Gail was his wife, for goodness' sake.

He nodded to Gail and she stepped off the box, kicking it aside. "I can only give you a minute," Kyle told her.

Cas had sunk back down to the floor by the time that Gail entered his cell. She knelt down beside him. "Cas, it's me. Do you know who I am?"

"Of course I know who you are," he answered in a gentle tone. "You're the woman I love."

She heaved a sigh of relief. Oh, thank God. The way he'd been talking there for a minute, she hadn't been sure. But when she reached out to touch his face, he shrank from her.

"Don't," Cas said shortly.

Gail's heart broke a little. Although she told herself that this was Patricia's brainwashing, it was still hard to take.

"It's wrong," Cas added. But before Gail could even begin to think of what to say in response to that, Cas went on: "It's wrong, because whenever you touch me, I feel things I'm not supposed to feel."

"Who says you're not supposed to feel them?" Gail said irritably. "Patricia? We're in love, Cas, and we're married. What you're feeling is OK, because what you're feeling is love. She's trying to brainwash you into thinking that it's a sin, but it's not."

Cas stared at her. His eyes searched her face. He was confused again. This was Gail, and she was his wife. He loved her with all his heart. She looked so sad. How could loving this woman be a Sin?

He was shackled to the wall, but Cas strained at his bonds again as he leaned forward to kiss her. She kissed him back, pulling his face towards hers.

"I love you, my darling," Cas murmured, nuzzling her cheek. "She will not break me. I swear it."

"No? We'll just see about that," Patricia snapped. She was standing in the doorway of Cas's cell, regarding the couple. "Oh, don't look so surprised. As you so obviously need reminding, I am God. I see everything, and I hear everything." She sneered at Gail. "The next time you see him, he will deny you. He will want nothing to do with you, because all you do is cause him pain."

"You're the one who's doing that, not me!" Gail shot back. "What is the point, Patricia?"

"The point?" Patricia said, raising her voice. "I thought you understood. The expression says that the wage of Sin is death, but I think not. I prefer to think of it as eternal torment, instead."

"She tells everyone that I'm insane, but it's she who is insane," Cas said, nodding towards Patricia.

"Yet it's you who's shackled up in a padded cell, isn't it, Castiel?" Patricia said tartly. She seized Gail by the arm and jerked her to her feet. "I will give you this one for free," she told Gail. "But if I catch you sneaking in here again, I will set the Task Force on you, and on anyone who assists you."

She pulled Gail roughly towards the door of the cell. "Take one last look at that man," Patricia said to Gail, "for the one you know as 'Cas' will soon cease to exist." Then she yanked Gail out of the cell and slammed the door shut.

"Do ya want the sugar-coating, or the plain?" Bobby asked Gail.

She sighed. "I WANT the sugar, but I guess I'll have to take the plain."

He frowned, sitting back in his chair. "I'm not gonna tell you anything you don't already know. You asked me how we can break Cas out of jail. Well, the bottom line is: we don't. We can't. Patricia's God. She's in charge. In fact, I'm sure she's watching us right now. How are you gonna circumvent that?"

Gail was so frustrated she thought her brains were going to start leaking right out of her ears. "I'm so sick of hearing that! So she's God, so what? Does that mean she just gets away with it? You used to be God, too. Can't you tell me anything I can use against her?"

"I told you, I have no recollection of any of the big stuff anymore," Bobby said, as patiently as he could. "As soon as I resigned, any knowledge I might or might not have had about the sacred objects and the Netherworld list, among other things, just left my head. I've been sitting here racking my brain, trying to think of anything that I could use to help Cas, but it's all a blank. Must be some kind of a failsafe; once you stop being God, you don't know any of the state secrets any more. Makes sense, actually."

Gail glared at him. It wasn't Bobby's fault, of course, but she was tired of banging her head against a stone wall. Everywhere she turned, people were telling her there was nothing they could do. She wished Gabriel was here. If the two of them teamed up, their combined power might be enough to break Cas out. But, then what? Obviously, Gabriel wasn't powerful enough to bust through the shield that Patricia had put on Heaven, or he'd have been here by now, she was sure of it.

But, wait a minute: She was forgetting someone else who had immense powers, wasn't she? She looked at Bobby and said, "I need you to do me a favour."

"What is it, Bobby? I'm a busy woman," Patricia said briskly. She walked into his office and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of his desk, but she sat on the edge, as if she were contemplating fleeing at any moment.

"I know that, and I appreciate your coming here to meet with me like this," Bobby said.

"Why couldn't you have just come to my office?" she asked him with a note of suspicion in her voice.

"I just wanted a bit more of an informal setting to ask you what I need to ask you," Bobby replied.

"Oh? And what's that?" she said.

"What are you doing, Patricia?" Bobby asked her. He was staring at her intently. Patricia's hands began to shake. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said, as calmly as she could.

"Yeah? Well, I'm sure that ya do," Bobby said bluntly. "What you're doing to Cas and Gail is wrong, Pat. You know it, I know it, and so does everybody else. You won the friggin' election, didn't you? So, I repeat: What are you doing?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business," she said haughtily. "And I also don't believe that's why you asked me to come here today. This was a mistake." She popped out.

"Damn it!" Bobby cursed, pounding his fist on the desk. He only hoped he'd been able to buy Gail enough time.

"Thanks a million, Velma. I really appreciate your help," Laurel said. She led Patricia's secretary away from the reception desk as Gail watched from her hiding place.

Once the women were gone, Gail took the key Laurel had given her and unlocked the door to the High Office. Patricia had neglected to change the lock when she'd taken over. Too busy torturing Gail's husband to hire a locksmith, Gail thought bitterly. Thank goodness Laurel had kept her spare key.

The Office looked the same as it always had. For all of her resolve to give it a complete makeover once she'd taken the job, Patricia had ended up just leaving it as it was. Perhaps she was so busy drugging and brainwashing Cas that she hadn't narrowed down her choice of interior decorators yet. Busy, busy, busy.

But, Gail needed to focus now. There would be plenty of time to be angry later on. She rushed over to the credenza behind the desk, hoping it wasn't locked, because she didn't have a key for it.

It wasn't locked, but as she opened the door where the Hotline was supposed to be, Gail's heart sank. It wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" Patricia said.

Crap. Gail turned around. Patricia was standing there, holding the black phone in her hand. "I took it out," she told Gail. "So you can forget about calling your brother-in-law the King of Hell for assistance. This is Heaven. There will be no communing with Evil here, not under my administration. You don't want the Angels to think that you and Crowley are in bed together, do you? Well, metaphorically speaking, of course. I could put you in jail for breaking and entering, at the very least. Or perhaps you'd like to try for treason. That's a crime punishable by death." Then Patricia gave Gail a grotesque smile. "But, don't worry. Death would be much too quick and merciful for the likes of you and Castiel. And now I see you've got Bobby doing your dirty work for you, too. Get out of my office, before I change my mind and throw you in jail."

Gail scurried out of Patricia's office. She couldn't allow herself to be imprisoned. Then, Cas would be lost to her forever. She had to keep pushing, keep trying. But what could she try next?

Gail went to her own office and sank down on the couch, lost in thought. But she was fresh out of ideas.

"Boy, does this ever suck," Liz said. She entered Gail's office, plopping down on the other couch.

Gail looked at her friend. "Congratulations. You just won Understatement Of The Year." She told Liz about her failed attempt to call Crowley for help.

"Wow, talk about desperate. Trying to call the King of Hell for help to defeat God. You must be, like, the worst Angel ever," Liz quipped.

Gail regarded her girlfriend warmly. "Thanks for trying, but I'm way too depressed for that right now. Thanks for being here for me, though."

"We'll think of something, Gail. I swear we will," Liz said earnestly. "Let's brainstorm."

VIGNETTE - STILL CRAZY AFTER ALL THESE YEARS

Abigail was home safely from her walk now. She was a little worn out. Everywhere she went, there seemed to be people who needed her help. Everywhere. Every time she went out lately, she came home drained of energy. And what thanks did she get for it?

Vincent always accused Abigail of being crazy, but it was everyone else who was crazy, not her. Vincent, calling HER crazy? Well, that was the pot calling the kettle crazy, wasn't it? She should never have gotten mixed up with him. But he'd been so handsome and charismatic. Just like all the old musicals she liked to watch, he had swept into her life and swept her off her feet. Dining, dancing, romancing. She had felt like the luckiest woman on earth. And then, the wonderful news: she was expecting his baby. When she'd told Vincent, he'd seemed so happy.

But then, once she'd had the baby, Vincent's attitude towards her had changed. He'd told her he didn't want to be with a woman who had a kid, and that having the baby had ruined her body. Look at those ugly stretch marks she had on her stomach now.

Abigail had looked sadly at Vincent. But what he was saying, though cruel, made total sense to her. She knew she looked terrible. She'd always been unattractive; that was why she had been surprised that he had bothered with her in the first place. But a part of her was angry with him for saying things like that to her, too. Didn't he realize how much he was hurting her? But she never told him how she felt. She would just bear his insults, and then, when he left the house, she would look at the baby. This is all your fault, she told the infant. But then she would relent and breastfeed the baby, talking to her. Asking her what Abigail should do to get Vincent to come back to her. Well, the answer to that was obvious, wasn't it? Vincent didn't want to be with a woman who had a baby. He'd said so himself. So Abigail ran the bath water and held baby Gail over the tub, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. But when she'd changed the baby's diaper, Abigail stuck the infant with the diaper pin a few times, just to teach her a lesson. Still, baby Gail didn't even cry then; she just looked at her mother with what Abigail interpreted to be a bewildered expression. So then she'd relented again, and healed the child. But she'd still glared at the baby every now and then, telling Gail she held her responsible.

So when Vincent had ordered her to give the baby up, Abigail hadn't really minded that much, although she'd made the token protests, of course. Mothers were supposed to love their children, weren't they? When Vincent took the baby away, she had felt mainly relief. Now, things could get back to normal. Now, Vincent would love her again.

But neither of these things had happened, of course. A year and a half went by, and Abigail was all alone. Now, she felt like she might want to see the girl. Vincent had forbidden it, but, screw him. He hardly even spoke to Abigail any more.

Still, he did come over every once in a while. So, the next time that he did, Abigail touched him for a moment and found out the name and address of the people who had adopted baby Gail. Then she tracked them down and made a visit to Christina one day, when Jim had been at work, and Frank in school.

Abigail had introduced herself by first name only, using a pretext she could no longer remember. But whatever it had been, Christina had bought it. Women and children always trusted Abigail. She just had one of those faces. So Christina had let her in and ushered her into the living room. They'd chatted for a moment, and then Christina excused herself. It had been a hot summer's day, and she'd told Abigail she had a cold pitcher of iced tea in the fridge.

Baby Gail had been in a playpen in the living room. She was bigger now, of course. But she still had those big brown eyes and the dark hair, and she still had the ability to unhinge her mother. Gail stared at Abigail when Christina went into the kitchen. Accusing her. Why did you let Vincent take me and give me to these strangers? What's wrong with you? Who would do something so horrible?

Abigail stared back. She could see the light in Gail's eyes. When she got a little bit older, Abigail's daughter was going to be one smart cookie. "You're a very special, very intelligent girl, aren't you?" Abigail said to the toddler in a soft voice. Gail continued to stare, and Abigail chuffed out a frustrated breath. "I'm glad I got rid of you. You're useless. You'll never be able to do anything right, and you'll be nothing but a burden to anyone who uses the bad judgement to have anything to do with you, for the rest of your life!" she hissed at the child. "You are a curse. That's why your father had to unload you on these unfortunate people. It's because no one else wanted you. Well, I hope you're happy, because now, thanks to you, I have nothing, and no one."

Little Gail was still staring, and her mouth had dropped open, as if she could understand everything her mother had been saying to her. And, who knew? Maybe she could. She may have ruined Abigail's life, but the child wasn't stupid. Anyone could see that.

Christina came back with the iced tea, and a cake on a platter. She poured a glass for Abigail and handed it to her visitor. She hadn't heard anything the woman had said to Gail, of course. But she did notice that her adopted child was staring unblinkingly at Abigail. "Look at the way she's looking at you," Christina said, smiling. "She must really like you."

Abigail smiled weakly. Yeah, sure. Gail liked her so much she'd just as soon kill her mother as look at her. Well, maybe Abigail should just kill her and Christina, instead. She could just take that knife that Christina had brought out on the platter to cut the cake with and kill the both of them with it. Nobody knew who she was, or where she had come from. Or maybe she should just kill the woman, and take the baby back, for herself. That would get Vincent's attention, wouldn't it?

But Abigail was still scared of Vincent, and quite frankly, she was scared of Gail, too. Just the way that the baby was looking at her was enough to freak Abigail out. So she just sat there, vacillating, even as she and Christina were making small talk. And just as Abigail was reaching for the knife, Jim came home unexpectedly, and whatever opportunity she might have had was lost.

Then Abigail had excused herself and scurried away. She had never gone back to that house, and aside from her brief, tentative forays to the hospital when Gail had had her operation, hoping to see Gail, Abigail had never seen her daughter again. But she still blamed Gail for everything that had gone wrong in her life. She should probably just have killed the girl when she'd had the chance. Because, if Gail existed, did Abigail, really?

She went to the fridge and took out the pitcher, pouring herself a special milkshake. Vincent may have dumped her years ago, but he still left her health shakes every week. She could drink them or not, he'd told her; it was completely up to her. But if she chose not to, she would age rapidly, and then she would die. She should consider herself lucky that he was giving her the stuff at all. She was one of only two women that Vincent was being nice enough to keep alive in that manner. He didn't even know why he was doing it. Abigail meant nothing to him. She had never meant anything to him. Yet, he was keeping her young for some reason. At least he had use for Cathy. And Vincent himself had nothing to worry about on that score. Ever since his discovery of The Secret as a young man in Barbados, Vincent had his own immortality all locked up. But what good was living forever if you didn't have goals? So when he'd found out about the Books, Vincent had decided to go for them, just to cement his legacy. Besides, Vincent liked being in charge; he always had. To him, there was no better feeling than when people hurried and scurried to do your bidding. And if they had fearful expressions as they were doing that, so much the better.

As long as Vincent's progeny remained alive, so would he. That was one reason he kept traipsing all over the world impregnating women. But that was the problem with the system: it was like a drug. Once he'd found out what was required on his part, Vincent hadn't been able to believe his good fortune. People never pulled practical jokes on Vincent because they knew better, but when he had found out that the mysterious golden waters in that secluded Caribbean cove were magical, Vincent would have thought for sure that someone was pulling his leg. But he'd soon found out that it was the truth. Now he could live forever based on what he had done in that cove, and so could Cathy and Abigail, courtesy of his special shakes. But unlike him, the women had to keep on drinking the formula regularly, or they would die in unbearable agony. Vincent was not dependent on any drink; rather, his immortality rested with his children. The more kids he made, the longer he would live. Conversely, if all of his children were to die, so would Vincent. But that was never going to happen. He'd never counted, but he must have dozens of dozens out there. His daughter Gail, the Angel, was the glittering jewel in his crown. It was too bad that old bitch had won the election. But Gail was an Alpha female, even if she didn't think she was one, and her husband was one of the most Alpha males that Vincent had ever encountered, even though Castiel didn't always behave like one. Vincent was sure the two of them wouldn't tolerate being oppressed for long.

Abigail wasn't an Alpha anything, though. She was just a passive-aggressive, neurotic mess of a woman who spent too much time with herself, marinating in her own spoiled juices. She took her shake into the living room and sat down on the couch, thinking again about the baby she'd had years ago.

"Yes?" Patricia asked her visitor. "What do you want?"

Becky edged tentatively forward. Wow. If she'd ever been skeptical about Patricia being God before, she sure wasn't, now. Becky had been here when Bobby was God, and there was just something about the place that made the person who was sitting behind that desk seem very intimidating. In a rare flash of insight, she realized this must be what it was like to visit the Oval Office.

But she was here for a purpose, so Becky cleared her throat and said, "I'm here to collect my reward."

Patricia knew very well what Becky was talking about, but she wasn't going to make it that easy on the girl. Why should she? "Reward?" she echoed. "And what might that be?"

Becky couldn't believe it. But then, she thought about it. Patricia had probably just forgotten. There must be a lot involved to being God. And Becky knew that Patricia had gotten off to a rocky start with lots of the Angels by throwing Cas in jail. Truthfully, Becky was kind of mad about that, too. Gail walked around Heaven alternating between bawling her eyes out and yelling at people all the time. It couldn't be easy having your husband thrown in jail and then being told you couldn't even see him because it was too dangerous. But, even though Becky loved Cas in her own way, she could totally see that. It was common knowledge all over Heaven that Cas had walked in on Scott trying to get a little too close to Gail, and that had made Cas go all ape-poop. Well, unlike most of those gossipy Angels who had no clue what they were talking about, Becky had been close to Cas on many occasions when he'd had his blade in his hand, both pretend, and for real. If she were so inclined, Becky could tell them that there was just something about Cas, some quality she couldn't quite put her finger on. Simply put, when he got angry and had his blade in his hand, you didn't want to be the object of his anger. Becky liked Cas a lot, and even though she'd spent a lot of time being mad at Gail because of Sam's obvious affection for her, Becky didn't wish Gail any harm. Really, she didn't. But if Cas had murdered Scott in cold blood, then jail was probably where he belonged. And if he was crazy, as the rumours went, maybe it was better that Gail didn't see him like that anyway, not until he got better. And Becky had liked Scott, too. When she had worked under Patricia, Scott had stopped by Patricia's office every once in a while, for some reason. Becky didn't really know why, because Scott had been working with Liz on Gail's campaign. But Becky guessed that during an election it was common for everybody to talk to each other. She'd seen Riley and Liz with Laurel, too. Anyway, Scott had been kind of cute, and he and Becky had sort of flirted around a bit. There was nothing about him that Becky could see that would make him someone who deserved killing. So Cas must have just snapped. A lot of people said the pressures of the election must have gotten to him, and the shock of Patricia having won the election when everybody had expected Cas to win, including Cas himself. And there could be some truth to that, but Becky knew Cas and Gail personally, and the others didn't. So she knew that when it came to Gail, Cas was a crazy person. He was so into his wife that if anybody even looked at her sideways, Cas went nuts.

But even though Becky felt bad for the couple, she also recognized a unique opportunity when she saw one. There would never be a better time for Becky to be assigned to Earth. She would be the only Angel who was there. How perfect would that be? And she would have a ready-made excuse to hang out at the bunker, because the instant Sam and Dean found out that Cas was in jail, they would want to help him. So Becky could offer to help them figure out how to help Cas, and she and Sam could spend tons of time together. And mopey Gail would be nowhere in sight, because she wasn't allowed to come to Earth. Perfect. It would be great if Becky could actually help Sam figure out how to get Cas out of jail, though. Then Gail would have her husband back, making her unavailable again, and Sam would be so happy and impressed by Becky, and be so used to her presence around the bunker, that he might just look at Becky in a new light.

She had to get there first, though, didn't she? "You promised to send me to Earth if you got elected," Becky reminded Patricia now.

"Oh. That," Patricia said in a flat tone. "That won't be happening."

"What?!" Becky exclaimed, dismayed. "But you promised!"

"People make promises during campaigns all the time, dear," Patricia said condescendingly. "That's why they're called 'campaign promises'. It's right there in the name."

This was unbelievable. "But you promised!" Becky wailed again, as if repeating the sentence would somehow make Patricia change her mind.

"Look Becky, I'm only going to say this once," Patricia said harshly. "There would be absolutely no benefit to my sending you down to Earth. None. The first thing you would do was run over to those Winchesters and tell them all about what's happening here. What happens in Heaven is none of their business. They are humans. Let them worry about Earth."

"I wouldn't, I swear!" Becky declared, but it was no use. Patricia knew she was lying.

"Now get out of my office and stop wasting my time," Patricia snapped. She took a file out of her In Basket and opened it.

Becky left Patricia's office, confused and angry. What a B-word. Now, Becky really wanted to get Cas out of jail. Maybe he could kill Patricia. Wouldn't THAT serve her right.

Patricia made a notation in the file and closed it, tapping the quill pen on top of the file folder. She didn't use her computer for work anymore. Now it sat in her residence, neglected for the most part. There was really no point in watching Castiel and Gail's suite now. If she wanted to see one of them, all she had to do was send out The Eye. Right now, Castiel was in the same place he always was, slumped against the wall of his cell. Patricia had reduced her visits to weekly ones by now. He no longer railed at her when she came; in fact, there were times when he was hardly lucid. He never mentioned Gail any more. He just spoke mainly in non sequiturs, when he could form complete sentences at all. Perhaps it was time to ease back on his medication a little. She had wanted him docile, but what would be the point of reducing his brain to mush? A person could only suffer if they were aware that they were suffering.

Gail was suffering plenty, but she was still being defiant. Patricia had never met a more stubborn woman in all of her existence. Castiel's wife was currently pestering Ethan to intervene on her behalf, and sneak her in to see Castiel again.

"Come on, Ethan," Gail urged. "Do you realize how long it's been since I've laid eyes on him? It'll be Christmas in a couple of days. Remember Christmas, Ethan? Remember sitting at our table, opening presents, and building snowmen? Remember what being happy felt like? Well, I don't. Not anymore. If you have even one ounce of compassion, you'll get me into that prison somehow. I need to see him, Ethan. I need to tell him - " Her voice broke. "I need to tell him I haven't abandoned him. God only knows what they're doing to him now. I have to talk to him. Please. Please."

Ethan felt terrible. He had to get her in there somehow. Imagine how heart-wrenching it was going to be for everyone this Christmas. He remembered that Christmas at Cas and Gail's place very fondly. It had been the first time he'd felt part of something since he'd lost his own family. Now, everybody was torn apart, and Patricia seemed hell-bent on ensuring that none of them would ever be happy again. Ethan had humbly asked her if she could kindly go to the Garden and see if Karen and George were there, and she had laughed right in his face, telling him she had no interest in rewarding someone who was friendly with killers and whores, and then she had kicked Ethan out of her office.

"I'm sorry, Gail. There's nothing I can do for you," Ethan said to his friend. "Take care of yourself." He took her hand for just a moment, but he let go immediately. The edict was still in place, after all.

Gail stormed out of the Academy, trying to think of a discreet place to go where she could read the note that Ethan had just placed in her hand.

Ethan had arranged it as best he could. Every cadet in Cas's class was going to go to Patricia's office, protesting Cas's treatment at her hands. They were to be polite and respectful at all times, but they were to be persistent. Riley was going to go with them, and if it looked like she was starting to figure out that this was just a diversionary tactic on their part, Riley was going to step in and escalate the situation. The aim was to keep Patricia so focused on the problem at hand that she wouldn't be watching Gail or the prison in the meantime.

Ethan walked into the reception area of the prison and incapacitated the guard at the desk. Then he put a choke hold on the other guard when he came back from his rounds. Ethan put the sigil handcuffs on both men and locked them in a cell. They should be out for about an hour or so, long enough for Gail to have her visit. Ethan knew he was risking a prison sentence of his own by doing this, but he couldn't just sit by and let Patricia do this to the couple. What was happening wasn't right. Everyone knew it, but no one seemed willing or capable of making a stand. Well, if compassion was a crime, then lock Ethan up. He'd had it.

He and Gail hurried to Cas's cell. Ethan unlocked the door and Gail went immediately to Cas's side, kneeling beside him on the floor.

"How are you, sweetie?" she said to him. "Are you OK? I've missed you so much."

He looked at her with glazed eyes. The cell was dark, as it always was, but there was a bit of light coming in from the corridor. Apparently, they had let Cas bathe and shave, although the lower half of his face was dark with stubble. They had taken away his clothes, though. He was dressed in a one-piece jumpsuit, such as prisoners on Earth might wear. But he looked confused. Disoriented.

"Do I know you?" he said hoarsely. "You seem familiar to me."

Oh, God. Her heart fell to her stomach. Hadn't Patricia said that the next time Gail saw Cas, he was going to deny her? That the man she'd known as Cas was going to be gone?

"I'm Gail, Cas. I'm your wife," she said softly. She reached out to take his hand, but he shrank back against the wall.

"Are you here to inject me with that substance?" he asked her. "They were doing that very regularly until just recently, about twice a day, I think. But now, it's only every now and then. I'm glad. My arm still hurts. Are you one of the nurses? I thought I'd seen you before, here in this room."

The tears were flowing silently down Gail's face now. "You're right. I WAS here before," she told him. "I'm your wife. I came here for a visit. But I'm not allowed to be here. That's why it's been so long between visits. But I want you to know that I love you, and I'll never stop trying. I'm not going to rest until I get you out of here somehow."

"You kissed me, when you were here before," Cas said slowly.

"That's right!" Gail replied excitedly.

"You shouldn't have done that," Cas said harshly. "It's a Sin."

Gail sighed in frustration. She'd been happy to hear that they had apparently scaled back the dosage of whatever drug they'd been giving him, but it was obviously still poisoning his thoughts. "We love each other, Cas, and we're married. It's not a Sin." She tried reaching out for his hand again, but again, he shrank away. She sighed again. "I'm going to get you out of here somehow, and then we'll talk," she told her husband.

"I belong in here," he said morosely. "I'm a bad person. I need to be punished. God is right. I'm nothing but a killer, and a Sinner."

"God is NOT right!" she exclaimed. "She's not even God! I don't care about some stupid election. Patricia is NOT God. God is love, and compassion. God is our Father. He would never do anything like this to you. Patricia's the one who's bad, not you, and she isn't going to get away with this!" But just how in the hell were they supposed to stop her? Gail had no clue. She was so frustrated and angry that she thought she might snap at any second. Maybe if she just slumped down next to Cas and started foaming at the mouth, they'd let her stay here. Then at least, she and Cas could be crazy together.

"You're not supposed to be here," Cas said in a flat tone. "Maybe you should just go."

That was it. Gail couldn't take it anymore. She lunged forward, grabbing his hands. "Do you know who I am, Cas?" she asked him, raising her voice. "Do you know who YOU are?"

"No," he responded. Then: "Maybe. I don't know." Another pause. "My Father doesn't love me," he said sadly. "No one does. No one's been here to see me."

"That's not true!" Gail told him. He was trying to pull his hands away now, but she squeezed them tighter. "I love you, and so do lots of other people."

"That can't be true," Cas said, shaking his head. "I am a monster. Where's my blade?"

She let go of his hands in shock. These were the kinds of statements that Patricia had dismissed as non sequiturs, but Gail knew her husband better than anyone. She remembered Cas telling her about the long nights he'd spent in his apartment in Vancouver when they'd been separated, holding the picture of the two of them in one hand, and his blade in the other.

"You don't want your blade," she told him, panicked. "Choose the picture, Cas. Promise me you'll always choose the picture."

He looked at her blankly. Did he have any idea what she was talking about? She honestly couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry to say this, but I think we'd better go," Ethan said softly. "I don't want Patricia finding you here again."

"Just a few more minutes, Ethan," Gail begged their friend. "Please."

"You're no good to him in prison, Gail," Ethan said pointedly.

Her heart sank, but she knew that he was right. She looked at Cas again. "You are NOT a monster. You are the most wonderful, lovable person I have ever met, and I'm not going to have a minute's rest until I get you out of here. Whatever it takes. I don't care. I'm going to keep on fighting. But you have to fight too, Cas. You have to fight for yourself. No matter what she tells you, or what any of these people tell you, you have a family who all love you very much. You're not wrong, Cas. They are. They are." She stared into his eyes, emphasizing her point.

"I miss my wife," he said suddenly. "She doesn't visit me anymore. Patricia says that's because she doesn't love me anymore."

Gail's heart broke. How could Patricia be so cruel? "Well, I happen to know for sure that Patricia is lying," Gail said with a tremble in her voice. "Gail DOES love you, more than anything. I love you more than anything, Cas. Please don't forget that." She kissed him quickly on the forehead, and then she got up and turned her back on him so she wouldn't have to see the look of fear and confusion on his face any longer. "Let's go, Ethan."

Ethan looked at Cas sadly. "Merry Christmas, Cas," was all he could think of to say. Then he closed and locked the cell door behind them.

Velma had let it slip to Becky in conversation that Patricia had the only working computer left in Heaven, and that it was currently sitting in Patricia's house, on her dining room table. Velma had put it there, herself. Patricia preferred the quill pen for office work, anyway.

So Becky headed to the library to talk to Chuck. It was a risk, but Patricia wasn't going to be able to watch everybody all the time, was she? Besides, she thought she had Becky under her thumb. And there was a time when that might have been true. But if the year of the death squads had taught Becky anything, it was that she had to stand up for herself. If she didn't, who else would? Patricia was soon going to learn that she couldn't just lie to someone's face like that and get away with it.

Chuck was excited. This was the first grain of hope they'd had since the election. He'd been sitting here in the library, racking his brain, trying to think of a way out of this mess. Working it like it was a math problem. If this was a plotline in his script, how would he write the characters out of it?

And a hypothetical author was all that he was now. He had sent Richard a few scenes via e-mail before the election, but now that they were all on lockdown, he didn't have a computer any more, either. He was sure that Richard would have just given up on him by now, and hired someone else. But this was much bigger than Chuck, and his piddly little problems. Patricia had to be stopped.

Luckily, before his computer had been confiscated, Chuck had begun to print out a directory, sort of like a phone book. There were billions of souls in Heaven, and not nearly enough paper in the known universe, so he'd given up on trying to include them all. But he had started with the highest-ranking Angels, sort of like a Who's Who, and like it or not, Patricia was the highest they had.

"OK, here's the location of her house," Chuck said, pointing to the first entry in the book. Then he looked at Becky. "But, you realize if we do get in there and have a look at her computer, it's probably going to be password-protected, right?"

Becky's face fell. Truthfully, she hadn't even thought of that. But, Chuck could give her a break, couldn't he? Just the fact that she had been smart enough to think of this idea in the first place should count for something.

"We'd better take Kevin with us, then," Chuck mused aloud.

Becky rolled her eyes. "Really, Chuck? Do we have to?"

"He's a genius, and he's a whiz at computers," Chuck insisted. "He might be our only chance."

Becky sighed. Figures. But Chuck was right. She needed to put her personal feelings aside for the moment. "OK, Chuck. Let's go."

But, Patricia was home when they got there. Becky had knocked on her door with some kind of work pretext and it was a good thing that she had, because Patricia had answered the door.

They had talked for a couple of minutes, and then Patricia said, "I'm going to need a few volunteers to put up some flyers for the big Christmas Day service I'm holding. If those Academy cadets are so keen to serve Heaven, let them do that. I'm going to officiate at a very sacred ceremony. It's time we put the 'mass' back in 'Christmas'. Attendance will be mandatory. Dismissed."

Then Patricia had closed the door in Becky's face, after telling her to go see Velma to get the flyers. But Becky was smiling now.

She went around the corner. "We have a date back here, on Christmas Day," Becky told Chuck and Kevin.

VIGNETTE - BLUE CHRISTMAS

"Check the turkey, please," Jody said to Frank. "I'm sure it probably needs another basting. Then you'll have to start peeling the potatoes."

Frank rose obediently from the couch. "Oh, and while you're in there, heat up another bottle. Your daughter's hungry again," Jody continued.

"Don't worry, Dad, I'm on it," Rob said. He and Frank left the room as Jody sat back, leaning against the couch cushions.

"Pretty sweet gig you've got going here," Dean commented. "Sittin' around, giving orders...how do I get a job like yours?"

"Carry around a two-hundred-pound beach ball in your stomach for eight months, then push it out of a place where no beach ball was ever meant to be pushed out of, and then we'll talk," Jody said dryly.

"That was nearly two months ago," Dean retorted. "How long are you gonna keep milking that for?"

"As long as I can, buddy-boy," she said, smirking. "As long as I can."

Angela stirred in her crib. She began to cry weakly. "Awww, what's the matter?" Sam said softly. He reached down into the crib and picked up the baby, holding her gently. "Don't let that grumpy man scare you. He's really OK, when you get to know him."

"Give her here," Jody said, gesturing to Sam. "Better hurry with that bottle, or there won't be Peace on Earth much longer," she called out in the direction of the kitchen.

But as Sam handed her the baby, they all frowned. The banter was forced and hollow, and they all knew it. The celebration was a lot smaller and much more subdued than it should have been. There should be a whole host of Angels here, joining the frivolity. Barry and Tommy and Carolyn should be here. They had been invited, of course. But Carolyn was getting bigger now and she tired easily, and the flight down there would just be too much of a hassle, Tommy had said apologetically. They had all really taken Angel Airlines for granted, he had joked weakly. They'd lapsed into silence for a moment, and then the questions had come again: Had anyone heard from Cas and Gail? Had everyone been praying to them? Had Sam been able to come up with anything, any ideas at all? One night out of sheer desperation, Tommy had gone to the newspaper office. The building's security guard had remembered him and let him in, and Tommy had spent an hour or so checking the database and the old files for anything they had on Heaven or Angels before realizing that what he was doing was ridiculous. Sam would have all of that and more, and the stuff he was looking at here approached the subject matter as speculation only, rather than established fact.

Tommy had sat back in his chair, his lips pursed tightly in frustration. He remembered way back, when he'd been the fool who'd broken up with Barry over Barry's belief in Angels. Then Cas had come here to talk to Tommy about the subject, and he'd ended up teleporting Tommy to Paris just to prove it to him. Cas had brought Barry and Tommy together that night, so they could reunite. And then, when he and Cas had been here the night that Lucifer had caused the earthquake that had destroyed his and Barry's home, and Gail had sustained those excruciatingly painful burns on her arms, just so she could retrieve their photo album for them? Tommy began to cry. They all missed their Angel friends so much, and there didn't seem to be any hope of seeing them again on the horizon, either. Apparently, that Patricia woman was God now, and she didn't approve of Angels visiting Earth, for some reason. Tommy didn't understand Heaven's politics any more than any other human, but he did understand the concept of hierarchy. God was the Boss, and Angels were eternal beings, weren't they? He hated to think about it in these terms, but there was a very real possibility that none of them would see any of their Angel friends again until they were Angels, themselves.

And there was one more thing. Cas had mentioned in passing to Tommy at Tommy's wedding reception that they feared that if Patricia was elected, Patricia was going to re-establish the ancient laws, and that was something that they wanted to avoid at all costs. They hadn't discussed the subject any further, but Tommy knew better than most of them what that would probably mean. It was the reason that nobody from his family except for Carolyn would have anything to do with him anymore. Hardline religious types used those so-called ancient laws to support their own beliefs that homosexuality was a Sin. So it wasn't too much of a stretch to conclude that Patricia might actually ban Tommy and his husband from entering Heaven altogether. But he was keeping this terrifying thought to himself for the time being.

So Tommy and Jody had exchanged words of love and holiday wishes, and presents had been exchanged in the mail. But even if their Canadian friends couldn't be there, Bobby really should have been. He'd never even seen Angela. Bobby should be sitting at the head of their table, telling stories and reading that poem about the night before Christmas. Angela was way too young to understand anything, of course, but Bobby would read to her in his gruff voice and she would stare up at him with awe, gurgling happily. Then Bobby would reach for his handkerchief and honk loudly into it, telling everybody he was coming down with a cold. Then Sam or Dean would point out that Angels didn't get colds, and even if they did, that wouldn't explain why his eyes were leaking, and Bobby would glower at them. Then Gail would laugh, breaking the mood, and Bobby's beard would start to twitch. Then Cas would eagerly offer to change Angela's diaper, and Frank would smirk, inviting him to go ahead and do so, at his own risk. But Cas would go ahead and do it anyway, of course. And then, Rob would announce that the annual video game tournament was about to commence. Gail would be jostling with her brother, telling him she was going to wipe the floor with him. Frank would tell her she was dreaming, and Gail would thank Jody for having a girl; she couldn't wait until Angela got older, so they could start the conspiracy, to rule over the men. Then Dean would ask Gail how that would be different from any other day, and Gail would laugh again. Then Cas would put his arms around Gail and tell her that she was the ruler of his heart, or something equally cheesy. Then the two of them would kiss, prompting groans from the men.

Great. Now, Jody had succeeded in thoroughly depressing herself. And, right on cue, Angela burst into tears, scrunching up her little face and wailing loudly. Right now, Angela was the living representation of the way they all felt. Still, life went on, and Jody supposed that this mini-family gathering was better than none at all.

Rob brought the baby bottle into the living room, giving it to Jody. "Dad's peeling the potatoes," he told her. "Can I go into the computer for a few minutes before dinner? I just had an idea for the story I've been working on, and I want to get it down before I forget it."

Jody sighed. She started to feed Angela, whose cries had subsided for the moment. "OK, but use your Dad's laptop, over there," she told their son. For some reason, she wanted him to remain in the room. Maybe it was because their family was fragmented enough as it was right now.

"Sure, Mom," Rob replied. He didn't have to be psychic to know how his Mom was feeling. It was written all over her face. And Rob felt the same way. He remembered how Uncle Cas and Aunt Gail had just dropped everything and rushed down here when that evil witch had sent his family that present with the nasty surprise in it. They were supposed to be preparing for their big debate, but Cas had told Rob that the family would always come first. Then Gail had come back again that same night, bringing one of their golden candlesticks to help protect Rob and his family. It was sitting on the dining room table right now. Rob's Mom had told his Dad that she was going to put a candle in it and light it during dinner so Cas and Gail would be with them in spirit, anyway, and his Dad had been speechless for a minute. When Aunt Gail had been here delivering the candlestick, she had taken charge when Rob's Mom had gone into labour, and both she and Uncle Cas had waited with them at the hospital that whole time. Had that cost them the election? Rob's stomach churned with guilt, even though he knew that there was really nothing that they could have done differently.

He sat down, opening his Dad's laptop and entering the password.

"As we celebrate on this Christmas Day, we have so much to be thankful for," Patricia was preaching to all of the Angels. "I look forward to being your God for centuries to come. When I campaigned, my motto was "Heaven First". and I have already begun the cleansing. I burned those so-called 'new laws'. They were nothing but a rulebook for the practices of Sin. We will be going back to the old ways. Souls will have to earn their place into Heaven. Sinners will not be welcomed here. Suicides, adulterers, homosexuals...let Crowley have those. Even though these premises are not exclusively white-coloured any more, the souls here will be. I can promise you that. We will conduct ourselves here as Angels should, away from the heathen land of Earth and their sinful ways. There will be so Sin here, and there will be no crimes. The notorious murderer Castiel is locked up in a secure cell for the criminally insane, which is just where he belongs. I know that some of you don't agree with that, but quite frankly, I do not care. I am God, and my word is The Word. If you do not conform, you can join him in jail, if you like. The choice is yours. But I will persevere, and I will make Heaven great again. Let us pray."

As the Angels solemnly bowed their heads, Patricia smiled in satisfaction. She hoped that Gail had gotten the message. No one would be helping her now, not unless they wanted to go to prison, too. Gail's little rebellion would soon fizzle out and die. Patricia looked for Gail in the crowd, but was unable to make out her face. But that was understandable, really, seeing as there were billions upon billions of Angels here. Attendance at this service was mandatory, so everyone would be here. Patricia was God, and she had decreed it.

"Let me tell you about a few new Commandments I am issuing, effective today," Patricia continued.

"Come on, Kevin!" Gail urged the young Angel. "I know Patricia likes to hear herself talk, but we haven't got all day, here."

"I'm working on it," Kevin muttered. He was sitting at Patricia's computer, trying out different potential passwords that Patricia might use. But really, he had to face it: It was a long shot, at best. Nobody knew Patricia well enough to know what she might pick as a password.

"Is Tight-Ass one word, or two?" Chuck quipped, and Becky giggled nervously.

Chuck had been hoping for a smile from Gail, but she was far too preoccupied. It was Christmas Day. Christmas Day, and she wasn't even going to see Cas today. Maybe she should just march over to that prison and start yelling at the top of her lungs. Maybe she should just weep and wail, and throw a temper tantrum. Try to appeal to the guards' sense of compassion, if they had any. It had worked once, ages ago, with Ethan. But Patricia would just throw her in jail too, then. No. She had to be out here, fighting for him.

"I'm in," Kevin announced suddenly, and Gail's mouth fell open in surprise. Truthfully, she hadn't really expected much. It was enough of a miracle that they had managed to sneak in here as it was. Chuck had taken a ruler and popped the lock on Patricia's front door, and when Gail had asked him where he'd learned how to do that, Chuck had told her she didn't want to know. And now, Kevin was saying that he had cracked the password.

"Another Christmas miracle," Gail said, sighing with relief. She rushed over to where Kevin was sitting. "Try - "

" - The bunker. I'm way ahead of you. I'm trying them there, right now," Kevin said, typing away. But after a couple of minutes, it was obvious that no one was going to answer. "Crap," Gail said. But she wasn't all that surprised, really. Without her and Cas there to throw their Christmas bash, the boys were probably at loose ends. Unless..."Try Frank's computer. Do you need the Skype ID?" Gail asked Kevin.

"I committed it to memory," Kevin said, typing furiously.

Gail did a double-take. Kevin really WAS a genius.

"There's a Skype coming in," Rob announced.

"Who is it?" Jody asked.

"I don't know. There's just a white circle, where the person's face should be," Rob replied.

Jody gave a half-shrug. Might be one of her technologically challenged friends from Sioux Falls, maybe. "Go ahead and click on it," she instructed her son. "Probably just Christmas greetings."

"Rob? Hi!" Gail said excitedly.

"Gail? Oh my God! Dad! It's Aunt Gail!" Rob yelled.

"Put the computer on the coffee table," Jody told Rob. He did, and Sam and Dean jostled for position in front of the screen as Frank dropped the potato peeler and rushed into the room.

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked her.

"I don't have much time," Gail said, trying not to burst into tears at the sight of them all. She told them about the situation in Heaven: the new, restrictive edicts, the prohibition on communication with humans, and Patricia's close watch on them all. And then, she told them about Cas, and then, she did start to cry. Chuck handed her a wad of tissues as she told their human family about the murder, and Cas's subsequent mistreatment at Patricia's hands.

"She can't do that!" Sam exclaimed, predictably enough. "He's entitled to his day in court!"

"Maybe you remember a little dust-up called the tribunal a few years ago?" Gail said sarcastically. "Heaven has never cared about treating Cas fairly. And Patricia's had a vendetta against him for a long time now."

"Did he kill that guy?" Dean asked. He couldn't wrap his head around what Gail was telling them.

"Yes, and he probably shouldn't have. But he was defending me, Dean. You know how he gets," Gail said earnestly. "But that's still no reason to chain him up, drug him, and brainwash him! I snuck in to see him a couple of days ago, and he didn't even seem to know who I was! He wouldn't even let me hold his hand!"

Frank felt sick. This was bad, all right. He told her about their visit with Crowley, and the fact that neither Crowley nor Gabriel could access Heaven. Gail's heart sank. It was just as she feared. "And you guys can pray to us all you want, but we can't answer back," she said, frustrated. "But, do me a favour, and don't pray to Cas right now. He's struggling with his sanity as it is; I don't want him to have all these voices bouncing around in his head."

They were silent for a moment, and then Rob said: "What about if we all pray to God, instead?" They all looked at him. "Maybe if we all pray to her, all day, all the time, she'll take pity on us. Maybe if we all tell her how much we need him in our lives, she'll let him go."

Gail smiled grimly. Rob may be a young man now, but sometimes, he still thought like a child. Still, it was a very sweet thought, and she blessed him for it.

"Gail, we'd better go, before we get caught," Chuck said. He leaned in to look at the computer screen. "Hey, everybody. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Chuck," Jody said. "And to you too, Kevin, Becky. I can see you in the background, there."

"They all helped me to get in here and talk to you guys," Gail said. "But unfortunately, Chuck's right. We'd better go, before we get caught and she throws us into jail, too."

"How can we help you?" Sam asked her. "There's gotta be a way."

Gail threw her hands up in frustration. "Sam, I honestly have no idea. I wish I did. Merry Christmas, everybody. I wish Cas and I could be with you. Maybe you SHOULD all pray to God. The real one. 'Cause I'll tell you the truth: I don't see any way out of this. I love you guys."

Then she stepped away from the computer so they wouldn't have to look at her crying her eyes out, yet again. Kevin said goodbye to everyone and logged off, shutting down the computer. Hopefully, Patricia wasn't the type of person to check recent applications on her computer, or Gail would probably have some serious questions to answer. As it was, they'd better get out of here, right now.

The Angels let themselves quietly out of the house and winked back to the Christmas service.

Cas was in one of his lucid periods now. This morning, a couple of guards had come by and taken him out to bathe and wash his hair. He'd been hoping that meant he was going to be allowed to attend the Christmas service, but after he had dried himself off and put on a fresh jumpsuit, the chains went back on, and he was led back to his cell. Maybe it wasn't Christmas Day today, after all. But he'd been so sure. There was just something about Christmas Day. No matter where you were or what you were doing, you just knew that it was a special day. Even going back to that first one.

Then Patricia had come into his cell, and Cas had looked at her calmly. He no longer screamed at her when she came, and he did his best not to weep, either. She was made of stone, and he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. He never mentioned Gail to Patricia any more, either, because Patricia seemed to be happiest when she was describing how unhappy Gail was. But it hurt Cas too much to hear that, so he never asked after Gail, or asked when she could visit, any more. And at other times, he didn't ask because he couldn't remember her. That was usually right after he'd had a fresh dose of medicine.

But today, Cas had almost felt good. He was always happiest when he was clean. It was Christmas Day, and Patricia was here to see him. Maybe her heart had been softened by the day, and what it represented.

He soon learned otherwise, though. She was merely here to remind him that she was God, and she would be officiating at the Christmas Mass today. She said she had briefly considered letting him come, but that murderers didn't deserve special favours. It was too bad, too. Castiel's wife would be at the service. He could have seen her there. What a shame. Oh, well. She guessed Castiel should have kept his blade in his pocket, then.

Then he did get angry, even though he'd told himself that he shouldn't. "Why do you come here?" he yelled at Patricia. "What is the point? I wish I had my blade right now! Then, Heaven would have to have another election!"

Patricia smiled coldly. "Is that right? You realize that I am God, do you not?"

"How could I not? Every time you come here, you can't wait to remind me," Cas retorted.

"Then you know that I could just reach out and touch you, and watch you explode," she said.

He glared at her. "Then why don't you just do it?"

"I told you," she replied patiently. "I want you and Gail to suffer, as I have suffered. I want you to feel helpless, without hope. Maybe I should bring you your blade. Then you could take it and cut furrows into your arms and legs, and watch yourself bleed, just so that you can feel better for a few minutes. Then, maybe you would finally understand how I feel."

"What are you talking about?" Cas said pleadingly. "What's wrong, Patricia? Why are you like this now? Maybe, if you told us, we could help you!"

For a moment, she seriously considered it. Look at what she was doing. Look at the kind of person she had become. Did she really want to be this way? She thought of the pain and humiliation she'd felt at Lucifer's hands. He had ruined her for all eternity. But, maybe she should speak up about it. Maybe if she did, she could get some help.

"Please, Patricia. Gail and I could help you. Bobby, too. You were our friend, once," Cas said softly.

She looked at him, pursing her lips so hard that they turned white. "Friends don't abandon each other," she said bitterly. "You and Gail only care about yourselves. Nice try, Castiel."

Then she had stalked out of his cell, telling the guards to give him a double dose of his "medication". He was getting a little too lucid for her liking. And then she had left the prison to get dressed up for the Christmas Mass. In a few minutes, Patricia would be addressing all the Angels of Heaven, telling them how to properly conduct themselves, and the irony was completely lost on her.

Cas had received his injection, and he was sitting on the floor again, trying to fight the drug. It had been remarkable to feel like himself for a change, if only briefly. And he'd felt like he had gotten through to Patricia, just for a moment. But then the curtain had come down on her face again, and he'd heard her order the guards to give him a double dose.

Now he was scared. A single dose was bad enough. He was going to be certifiably, foaming-at-the-mouth insane in a few minutes. Before that happened, Cas needed to fight, as Gail had said. But now, the depression was setting in again. Now he remembered that it had been Gail who had come to see him a couple of days ago, and he hadn't even acknowledged her, because he hadn't recognized her. Patricia had told Gail that Cas would deny her, and he had. How that must have hurt Gail. He wouldn't even let her take his hand when she was here, and when she had forced the issue, he had struggled to pull away. The weights they had loaded on his chest centuries ago in Massachusetts had hurt less than the realization that he had denied his wife, then told her to leave. His sweet Gail, with her quick quips and loving devotion. She always looked at Cas with such warmth, as if he were the most wonderful person who had ever existed. How had he ever been allowed to be with someone as loving as she? Time and time again, she had taken up for him, when no one else would. And, time and time again, he had shown his gratitude by disappointing her yet again. Dragging her down with him. She had told him that she loved him, and how had he responded? By shrinking from her touch, and telling her to leave.

He started to cry. Christmas Day. Cas remembered a Christmas Eve a lifetime ago, when he had found Gail on the street outside that phantom church, and brought her home, where she belonged. Then he remembered another Christmas, when he and Gail had been locked in the delusion that Cas was a Demon, and that he had abused her. But now, he was able to remember that day as it had truly been. There had been a fresh blanket of snow on the ground that morning. After they had made love, they'd gotten dressed and gone for a walk, at Gail's urging. They'd walked and talked for a while. Gail's arm was tucked through his, and he had felt so happy, just to simply be walking and talking with her. Then, she had slipped on a patch of ice, and fallen down. Cas had initially been alarmed, but she had just laughed and said that since she was down there anyway, she might as well make a snow angel. Then she'd told him that he should do it too, so Cas had lain down beside her, flapping his arms and legs, and they'd laughed at the notion of actual Angels making snow angels. Then he had rolled over in the snow and kissed her, and then he had helped her to her feet. This was before she had mastered the ability to dry off clothing without using her blade, so he had popped them home so that they could dry off and get warm. Then they'd ended up making love again, and then they had put dry clothes on and gone over to Sam and Dean's, bearing gifts, and hot turkey sandwiches from the diner. Gail had apologized for not having a turkey at her and Cas's house, but they had hardly been home, and she'd simply run out of time to plan anything. That was OK, Sam and Dean had said. At least they were together.

Frank had been on the road then. He'd called later in the day and Cas had offered to go get him, but Frank had apologized, saying he'd made other plans. But he would be back in a day or so, and they would celebrate then. They'd found out later that that had been the inception of Frank and Jody's relationship. They hadn't wanted to tell anyone yet, not until they'd decided if it was going to be a serious, committed relationship. But, how could it not have been? They'd been meant for each other from the start, just like Cas and Gail had been.

So that was how that Christmas had really gone. Cas was glad he was able to remember it correctly now. He hoped that Gail could, too. Was she thinking of him right now, and the other wonderful Christmases they'd shared together? The best one by far had been the one at their house. A whole group of people had come over, and they had...what? What had they done? He was starting to lose it now. It was something to do with three men, he thought. The Magi, maybe? No, he was getting things confused again.

He had to keep fighting. Sarah had said so. No. Not Sarah. Gail. Yes, that was her name. Cas closed his eyes tight and tried to fix her appearance in his mind. Dark hair, and big, dark eyes. The last time he'd looked into those eyes, tears had been flowing out of them, just as the tears were flowing out of his now. Gail. His wife. She'd worn such a beautiful dress on their wedding day, and they'd spoken words of love to each other. His wedding ring! Oh, thank goodness. It was still there on his left hand. Patricia hadn't taken it from him. He was actually a little surprised by that. She'd taken away everything else, hadn't she? Was he ever going to see the woman he loved, or anyone else, ever again? The brothers, and that other tall man? What were their names, again? And wasn't there a newborn baby, too? Or was Castiel thinking of that long-ago day when there had been a baby born in a manger, a boy child who had been promised to all of humanity? To love them and lay down his life for them, time and time again? Castiel could almost feel the rough straw scratching at his soft skin, as his mother held on to him. Oh, great. Now he was so delusional that he thought he was the Son of God. Nothing Prideful about that, was there?

He missed everyone, but he missed the short, dark-haired woman most of all. What was her name again? Father had kept His promise to gift Castiel with a mate and constant companion, to make up for all the trials and tribulations He was going to put His Son through. But, did He have to put her through them, as well? Cas scrunched up his eyes really tight through the tears that were still falling, so that he could hold on to the picture of her in his head. It was fading in and out, but he could feel her hand in his and hear her voice, pleading with him to fight. He'd always been good at that, anyway. But this time she wanted him to fight with love, not violence. He could picture himself touching her soft skin, kissing her; and her, telling him she loved him. Now he was starting to feel physically excited, but he pounded his legs with his fists because that kind of thinking was wrong, and it was a Sin. Maybe the next time they let him shave, he should just palm the razor blade and cut himself with it. Maybe that would help clarify things. It had worked back when they were staying at the bunker, after those teenagers had blown up his and Sarah's house. When Cas thought he was hurting her so badly, he'd begun to cut himself with the razor blade he'd taken from the bathroom cabinet. He had never cut Gail at all. Yes, Gail. That had been her name. Cas had just cut himself, any time he had had a bad thought. Then his friend...Dave? Dan? had caught him doing it and berated him. What the hell was the matter with him? Cas had stammered something about having sinful thoughts, and the man he was talking to had told him that was b.s., and that all Angels were bricks, or something like that. Then the man had thrown all the razors away, and that had been the end of that.

Who was right? Castiel didn't know any more. All he knew was that he was so sad. He wept for hours, and as Christmas Day came to a close, he was still crying.

And that was when the black clouds started to form in the sky on Earth. They first gathered over the state of Kansas, and then spread, until they were covering the entire planet. And then the raindrops came. There were just a few scattered showers, at first. But then, the harder Cas cried, the harder the rain started to come down. It washed away all of the Christmas snow in the regions where something like that was still possible. It was actually a welcome sight for the farmers in the African countries, where they had been praying to Yissa to end the Christmas drought.

But it soon became problematic, as it soon became apparent that the rains were not stopping. Elation turned to consternation as the teeming rain just went on and on, all over the world. Meteorologists were baffled. They saw no scientific reason for the phenomenon, none at all. But that was small consolation to people who were losing their homes and their livelihoods due to flash flooding. And still, the rains continued.

Patricia couldn't believe it. She had opened up her frequency, just out of curiosity. Now that Christmas was over and the inevitable flood of humans asking for material things should have subsided, she was wondering what the humans might be saying about her. Not that it mattered, really, but she was frankly curious. Now that she'd had three months to tighten things up in Heaven, she'd had time to reflect on her legacy. Patricia had no respect for Gail as a person, but she grudgingly had to admit that Castiel's wife had made a couple of valid points. Being the first female God was a huge deal. The only thing was, because she had taken such a hardline stance on contact with Earth and humans, none of them would know about that. Maybe she should soften her stance a little. But how? Make a personal appearance on Earth to some of the pious? Grant a few prayers, maybe?

So she had opened up, and incredibly, she was hearing prayers about Castiel and Gail. Out of all of the billions of voices she was hearing, their names stood out, and those prayers were the strongest, perhaps because they were fuelled by very strong emotions. One man, praying awkwardly, as if he had no idea how to do it. Tripping over his words, as if trying to censor himself. Saying he thought that he missed his girlfriend who was overseas a lot, but that didn't hurt nearly as much as Cas and Gail not being there for Christmas. At least Nicole was working; Dean hadn't liked it, but he'd understood. But why weren't Cas and Gail allowed to come to Earth anymore? What the hell had they done to anybody, anyway?

There were a few other men she heard as well, and at least they had been properly respectful. One of them, who sounded more bewildered than anything else, said that he and HIS girlfriend had had a fight over the situation, and that was why Quinn hadn't been there with him for Christmas. She had grown sick and tired of him pestering her about Castiel and Gail. She knew nothing about it, and if he wanted a psychic instead of a girlfriend, he should just do a Google search. There was a boy, too, and he was one of the most persistent ones. He said he was sorry he'd been so mean to his Uncle Cas in the past. Uncle Cas, indeed, Patricia thought. Everybody missed them so bad, Rob prayed. Please, please let his Aunt Gail and Uncle Cas come to Earth. His new baby sister Angela, who was named after the Angels, cried all the time now, and Rob knew that was because she missed them, too. Please show them all mercy. Please.

Patricia had thought about it, and for an instant, she'd almost relented again, just as she almost had on Christmas Day. But where had the Angels been when Patricia herself was begging and pleading for deliverance from Lucifer? Nowhere to be seen. Too bad for the humans. Hadn't they learned by now that life wasn't fair? Even that boy should know better. He was certainly old enough.

She'd been about to turn off the frequency again with an angry snap when she began to hear other things, things that concerned her a lot more. Angry, frightened, and bewildered people, wondering why she was punishing them. There were even a couple of people who were being facetious, asking them if she wanted them to get started on the ark.

The ark?! So she'd gone home and looked at her computer, astonished by what she was seeing. It had been raining heavily on Earth ever since Christmas Day, for fourty days and fourty nights, with no letup. The inevitable Biblical comparisons were being made. Why was God doing this? Was this going to be another Flood? What was going on in Heaven? If God wanted people to be doing something to make it stop, why didn't He just tell them what it was? At this rate, the human race was going to be extinct soon, and the planet was going to be washed away.

Patricia sat back in her chair, astonished. She wasn't doing this. She knew nothing about it. But what, if anything, should she be doing about it?

And that was when Gail knocked on her door.


	5. Who'll Stop The Rain

Chapter 5 - Who'll Stop The Rain

Gail had been making the rounds that morning, doing what she did every day now. Every day, she visited all of their friends and supporters in Heaven, asking them if they had any ideas. No one did, of course, but it gave her something to do, anyway. She'd given up on the board, although apparently, they still convened. That fact mattered little to Gail; all she could think about was Cas, and how to help him. She hadn't been able to get in to see him since that day just before Christmas that she and Ethan had snuck in. The guards that Ethan had incapacitated had said nothing, out of embarrassment at being caught so unawares, and the prisoners had all been accounted for when they had woken up. But no one at the prison would help Gail any more. It was simply too risky. She guessed she couldn't blame them, in a way. But now, another fear was coming to the forefront: that Cas would simply be forgotten. He was locked away from everyone, and Heaven's daily operations were still going on without him, weren't they? Patricia had effectively, decisively erased Cas from the board by isolating him from everyone, and because there had never been a trial, there was no indication of exactly how long she intended to keep him there. But if Gail couldn't see her husband for the time being, at least she could make sure that his predicament stayed on everyone's minds.

She had just left Bobby's office, where she had alternated between anger, sadness, and frustration as she'd been speaking to their friend.

"We've got to get him out of there, Bobby," she'd said, for the umpteenth time.

Bobby was scowling. He was just as angry about the situation as she was, and just as frustrated. He'd tried talking to Patricia a number of times about what she was doing to Cas, but to no avail. It was bad enough that she had locked him up without any due process, but that stuff she'd been injecting him with was obviously causing some kind of mental illness in his brain. That sort of thing was nothing to fool around with. Bobby should know. He'd had his own issues with that very thing.

Gail knew that too, and she wasn't above using it. "She's making him crazy, Bobby. You know what that's like! We've got to DO something!"

Bobby frowned. "That's not exactly the same thing, Gail. What happened to me wasn't drug-induced."

"So what?" she asked him, letting out a frustrated breath. "What difference does it make WHY he's crazy?"

"Because this is the kind of crazy that's chemically produced," Bobby said bluntly. "I'm just tryin' to tell you, it ain't the same thing."

"What exactly are you trying to say to me, Bobby?" Gail said, with a sinking feeling.

"You're a smart girl," he told her, "but if you need me to be the bad guy here, then, fine. I'll be the bad guy. What I'm trying to say is that Patricia won't budge. I've talked to her till I'm blue in the face, and there's just no getting through to her. She refuses to even see me anymore. I have no idea how the hell we're ever gonna get Cas out from under her thumb, but even if by some miracle we do, he might not just bounce back from what she's been doing to him."

Then Gail had stood up and stalked out of Bobby's office, because she didn't want to think about the implications of what he was saying. She felt like she was going to rip her hair out by the roots. Deep down, she knew that Bobby was right, of course. He'd just been trying to make her face reality. But she couldn't deal with any more reality right now. Wasn't the current situation bad enough, as it was, without worrying about whether Cas would ever be normal again?

Bobby had meant well in his own way, but what Gail needed to hear right now was a friendly, like-minded voice. She should probably just go and find Liz, but every time she and Liz sat down to talk about it, Gail would start to cry, and then she wouldn't be able to stop. And Liz was way too sympathetic, if that even made any sense.

No, what Gail needed now was somebody who was angry on their behalf. Somebody who was ready to take some kind of action. So she opened up her frequency. Maybe Dean would be on there, or Sam, or Frank. Anybody who could tell her that they might have a plan, or an idea, at least. Something. Anything.

She'd been hoping for one of the men, but the one she got was Rob. He had been praying steadily ever since Christmas Day. To God, to Gail, to all of the Angels in Heaven. But not to Uncle Cas, because Gail had said that might make him worse. But he'd kept it up, every day, all the time. His Dad had grimly joked that it was too bad the Angels didn't still have their computers; otherwise, Rob could just send a bunch of mass e-mails around Heaven. Frank had always used dark and sometimes irreverent humour to cope with stressful situations, but in this case, he actually admired his son's faith and persistence. Even if he didn't necessarily share it. But if Rob wanted to persist, who was Frank to say he shouldn't? Maybe he could throw in a few prayers for the planet while he was at it, though, because they might all be living in houseboats if these rains kept up, Frank had said.

So it was Rob's ever-deepening voice that Gail heard above all others when she opened up her frequency that day. It was comforting to her to find out that their family still cared enough about Cas's situation to be praying constantly about it. Gail had felt like one single, flickering candle in a hurricane for so long now that she nearly burst into tears, despite her resolve not to. Other people did care, and they did want to help her help Cas. They just had no idea how to go about it.

So what else was new? Gail thought sarcastically. They certainly all had lack of ideas in common. But now, Rob was talking about heavy rains and flash flooding in places all over the world, and when Gail reluctantly tuned his voice out for a minute or two, she could hear many, many other people, praying for the rains to please, please stop.

What the hell was this, now? Gail was astonished. She hadn't expected to hear anything like that. Her mind started to go to work. Oh, no. Was Patricia doing that? Had she decided that she was going to wipe out the human race?

That was it. If that was the case, they would have to do something, even if it involved treason, or out-and-out mutiny. But first, Gail was going to march right over there and give Patricia a piece of her mind. She didn't even care if Patricia tried to smite her. She'd had it.

Gail went to Patricia's office, but Velma advised her that Patricia had gone home for the day. She could make an appointment for tomorrow, if she wished. But Gail said no, that was all right. As if she was going to wait until tomorrow. Besides, she knew where Patricia lived, though she wasn't about to point this fact out to Velma, of course.

She decided to walk there, instead of popping over. The instant Gail had looked at the closed door of the High Office, she'd realized that she had to calm down. Patricia could eliminate the entire human race with a wave of her hand if she chose, and the way she'd been behaving lately, she might just do it, if Gail went barreling in there, issuing threats.

When she got to Patricia's place, Gail was glad that she'd given herself more time to think. Her mind had wandered a bit during her walk. She'd been remembering the Generals and that doctor from Area 51 when she had thought about the injections they were giving Cas, and her mind had free associated. But Gabriel had destroyed that facility, and every last drop of the formula, so what was happening on Earth couldn't be connected to that. Gabriel had...OK, technically, it had been Cas who had done that, but...Wait a minute. Cas. Even before that whole mess had happened, he had been able to influence the weather, at times. Sometimes, it had been on purpose, and sometimes, it had been by accident. Cas had brought about the great Flood, back in the time of Noah. Could he be doing that again?

When Gail knocked on Patricia's door, she was deferential to the woman. But now, she had another problem: how was she going to explain how she knew about the rains? She didn't want Patricia getting all riled up about the fact that Gail had been listening to prayers from their human friends.

She needn't have worried. Patricia was the one who brought it up.

"I've been watching the news on Earth," she said to Gail. "Something's going on down there. It's been raining for fourty days and fourty nights, non-stop. And, before you say anything, I'm not doing that."

Gail saw an opportunity, a glimmer of hope. "I think Cas might be doing it," she told Patricia.

"What?!" Patricia exclaimed.

Gail explained her theory. "If he's extremely depressed, he could be causing that to happen. Inadvertently, of course."

"Well, I'll just go over there, and tell him to stop," Patricia said.

Gail willed herself not to roll her eyes. "But he won't be doing it on purpose, Patricia. That's my whole point."

"What am I supposed to do, then?" the woman asked Gail, and Gail's mouth fell open. Unbelievable. How about letting Cas go, giving him a big, fat apology, and then handing in your resignation, you evil b-

"I have an idea," Gail said innocently, acting as if she'd just thought of it. "If I could get your permission to bring Cas down to Earth, so he can see the havoc he's causing - "

" - You must think I'm pretty stupid," Patricia snapped.

"No, I don't, Patricia. Please, hear me out," Gail begged. The more she thought about the idea, the more she really wanted to make it happen. If she could just get him out of that cell, away from those injections, and down to the bunker, Gail was sure that they would be able to figure something out. Her mind was working furiously even as she said, "You could send two guards down with him. Three, even. Keep him in the shackles. I'm sure that once he sees for himself what he's doing to the humans he loves, he'll be able to stop it. But I know him, Patricia. He's probably just been sad because he's been cut off from everyone. When he's sad, he cries. And, if he cries a lot, the weather changes. I've seen it before, with my own eyes."

"He cries," Patricia said sarcastically.

Gail's hands curled into fists. Oh, how she would love to smack Patricia in the face right now. "Yes, Patricia," she said, tight-lipped. "When he's sad, he cries. And when he cries a lot, his powers can manifest severe weather on Earth."

Patricia was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I'm not so sure I care. Let the human heathens all drown, then." But her tone was uncertain, and Gail picked up on that.

"I respectfully suggest that you let him go down there, to fix what he's doing," Gail said softly, "because if you don't, that'll be your legacy as God. Even if you don't care anything about the humans, do you really want to be the God who allowed the entire planet to drown? Do you really want to be known as such a callous God that you refused to stop the rains, even though you knew how to do it?" Patricia looked at her sharply, but Gail pushed on: "Leaders are remembered all throughout history for the big events that happened on their watch, either good or bad. And you know what, Patricia? I'll tell you something, woman to woman. Regardless of what's happened between us, or how we feel about each other, there isn't enough glass in the universe for the ceiling that would be built if the first female God ever messed up that badly. And even if you don't care about any of the things I've mentioned so far, I'll give you one more: How do you think God the Father would feel to see everything that He so proudly created with His own hands destroyed like that? How hurt do you think He would be?"

Gail's words had the desired effect. Unbeknownst to Gail, Patricia had been thinking about her legacy earlier, and she did not want to be the God in charge when the destruction of the world occurred. At her core, Patricia didn't really hate humans quite as much as her rhetoric would suggest. She'd mainly just said those inflammatory things to drive her opponents crazy, Castiel in particular. And he was crazy now, all right; so crazy that his unhappiness was apparently going to bring about the destruction of the very thing he held dear. Wouldn't that be deliciously ironic?

But the one thing Gail had said which resonated the loudest with Patricia was what she'd said about God the Father. Of all the wondrous things that God had created, Patricia knew that He loved Earth, and humans, the most. She may not necessarily understand, or share his viewpoint, but Patricia was not about to commit blasphemy by presuming to say that He was wrong to do so. She had served under God the Father for years and years, and Patricia had loved and revered Him. She had tried to be the kind of God of which she thought He would approve by bringing back the ancient laws, the ones He had written. But if Patricia were to let the Earth be destroyed, when she could have prevented it, it would break God's heart.

"All right," she said, pursing her lips together. "You can take him. But I'm sending three guards with him, armed with Angel blades and strong sedatives. He will remain chained at all times. And I will be watching you, so don't try anything funny. If you and Castiel do anything other than what I am sending you there for, I will order the guards to kill the Winchesters immediately. Are we clear?"

Gail's heart started to hammer in her chest. "Yes, Patricia. You have my word. You know that Sam and Dean are like family to us. I promise you, I would never want anything to happen to them. Ever."

Patricia let out a breath. "Very well. Come with me to the prison, then."

Gail's scheming started on the walk over to the prison. Instead of simply popping them over there, Patricia had taken Castiel's wife there on foot, sternly reinforcing the ground rules for their excursion the entire time. Gail was outwardly deferential, but she wasn't even listening. She was channeling all of her brain cells now, thinking about what they could do once they got Cas to the bunker. She had her blade in her pocket, and Sam and Dean had plenty of weapons there, of course. But Patricia was going to send three Angel guards, and Gail was sure they were going to be the biggest, beefiest ones she had. They would have blades, syringes loaded with sedatives, and Angelic powers. Sam and Dean would be no match for them, even if they were to have Angel blades at the ready. And there was no way Gail would be able to take on all three of them at once by herself. And Cas would be chained, unarmed, and probably drugged to the gills. Plus, Patricia would be watching. No, the all-out offensive would just get them all killed.

There had to be another, more subtle, way. Or, sneaky might be a better word. As far as Gail was concerned, all options were on the table. Then, she had the germ of an idea. The top priority was to make sure Patricia remained appeased, by believing that they were simply there to do a job, and no more than that. As Gail had promised. And that was part of the reason they were going there, of course. If the weather situation was as bad as it sounded, they definitely needed to take care of it, too. But while that was being done, Gail would be planning the substructure that would ultimately set Cas free.

Patricia wouldn't permit Gail to communicate with the Winchesters ahead of time, stating that she didn't want the men to have any time to prepare an ambush. Now Gail was worried about whether they would even be home. But since she had no way of checking, she would just have to hope.

One guard pulled Cas out of his cell, and Gail's heart sank when she saw her husband. He was silently crying, and the report Patricia had received when they'd first gotten here was that he had been crying non-stop ever since Christmas Day. So, while that fact served to bolster Gail's theory, it also hurt her very badly.

She looked closely at her husband. It was hard to tell exactly what his state of mind was. He had recently bathed, and his beard was neatly trimmed. But his face was wet with tears, and his gaze was downcast. If he was happy to see Gail, he gave no indication of it. She wasn't even sure if he knew who she was, or not.

As the three most enormous guards Gail had ever seen gathered around them, Patricia repeated her rules and stern warnings one more time. Gail reached out tentatively, seeking to touch Cas's arm. He shrank away from her with a look of distaste on his face, and Patricia smiled. At that moment, Gail could happily have raked her fingernails down Patricia's face, just to gouge out that smile. But she restrained herself, somehow. They were so close now.

"I have to be in contact with you just for a moment, to teleport you to our destination," Gail said to Cas gently. Amazingly, he looked at Patricia, as if for permission. "It's all right, in this particular case," the woman told him. "Mind my warnings," she said one more time. Gail put her hand on Cas's arm, and the guards touched their shoulders. Gail stared impassively at Patricia. The next time I see you, it'll be you in chains, Cas's wife vowed silently. Then she winked them all to the bunker.

Miraculously, Sam and Dean were home when Gail winked the group into the bunker, and they'd been monitoring the weather situation. Lebanon wasn't flooded out yet, but it was getting close. The bunker was impermeable, Frank's house was on a hill, and Barry, Tommy and Carolyn lived in a high-rise building, so thus far their own little group had suffered no real damage. But most of the roads had become impassable, so they had been brainstorming, trying to think of what they would do if the water levels got worse.

"But, hey, on the bright side, at least there aren't any alligators, or sharks," Sam stated.

Dean smiled grimly. "Remember when that big gator came up out of the water and Cas jumped on it, and stabbed it in the eyeball? That's arguably the most badass thing I ever saw him do. And that's saying a lot."

Sam let out a frustrated breath. Dean talked like this every day, as if invoking their friend's name and telling stories about Cas was going to make him just appear, out of thin air.

But then suddenly, he did. Sam was so shocked that his hand jerked, spilling hot coffee all over himself. He'd been just about to sit down at his laptop to do another weather check; it was a good thing that they hadn't popped in a minute later, or he probably would have fried the computer.

Dean leapt out of his chair. His eyes took in the sight of three behemoths in uniform, Cas in a red jumpsuit and chains, and Gail, looking at him and Sam wide-eyed.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed, as Gail rushed forward. "Put the gun down, Dean," she said nervously.

Dean looked down at his hand. He'd been so shocked to see them that he'd pointed the gun he had been cleaning at them. Then he smiled. Pointing a gun at Angels, let alone at his friends, had just been a reflex action. He came forward to greet Gail, putting the gun down on the table.

Gail let out a breath. She realized how ridiculous what she'd done was as well, but she hadn't wanted the guards to feel threatened in any way. She smiled tremulously. "Hi, guys. Sorry to startle you."

"Are you kidding?" Dean said in a gruff voice. He grabbed her and pulled her to him for a hug. Then he reached for Cas, who backed away a step, a look of confusion on his face.

"No contact with the prisoner," one of the guards barked, taking a step towards Dean.

"What's going on, Gail?" Sam asked her.

Gail sighed. "It's a long story. Have a seat, guys. These Angels are here to guard Cas, and they've been given instructions by God to kill you, if we don't do what we've been sent here for. So, no threats and no sudden moves, OK? They're not fooling around. I know you guys would have no way of knowing what's been happening in Heaven," she said with emphasis. "I'll try to explain." Gail stared at the brothers, willing them to understand her meaning. They weren't supposed to have any idea what was going on, because she wasn't supposed to have spoken with them at Christmastime.

"Cas, are you OK?" Dean asked his friend.

Cas's brow wrinkled. "Do I know you? My name is Castiel, actually. What's yours?"

Dean started to smile. "Since when did Heaven open up a practical jokes department?" he asked his Angel friends.

But Gail was frowning. "Please, Dean. Sit down. Cas isn't...himself, right now. I told you, it's a long story. We've had some, umm, issues in Heaven. Patricia put Cas in jail, and he's - " her voice broke " - medicated, at the moment."

"What do you mean, 'medicated'?" Dean said angrily. "He just asked me who I am!"

"What's he in jail for?" Sam asked in a sharp tone, playing along. He'd gotten it.

"He's a murderer, and he's dangerous," one of the guards piped up. "Enough chit-chat. We're here for a reason; now, get to it."

"Where's here?" Cas asked hoarsely. "What is the reason?"

Gail saw an opportunity. She blessed her husband's dry throat. "Let me go to the kitchen and get Cas a glass of water," she pleaded with the head guard. "Please."

He frowned, but said, "All right. But be quick about it."

"I will," Gail assured him. As she passed by the table, she told the brothers, "Patricia is watching us right now, so, behave yourselves. You're only allowed to talk to Cas. That's it. You need to show him the situation with the weather. We think he's accidentally causing it, so we're hoping that if he sees the devastating effect it's having, he'll be able to stop it. But this is serious, you guys. Patricia is God, and she's not fooling around. We all have to do exactly what she says. Sam, show Cas the images of the floods on your computer, but don't approach him." She looked at the guards. "If you'll let him, Castiel can sit in that chair, there." She indicated his usual seat. "Sam can show him the computer screen from across the table, and I'll be right back with his glass of water."

Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled looks, but Sam started to type away on his computer as the head guard nodded at Cas. "Go ahead, then. Sit down."

Gail popped out of the room, but she didn't go directly to the kitchen, of course. She was gambling that Patricia would be keeping her eye on Sam and Dean, and on Cas. As Gail had anticipated, Patricia had confiscated Gail's Angel blade at the prison, before allowing them to leave. She took a risk now, the first one of a couple that she was going to have to undertake. She winked into the weapons room and was relieved to see that the cabinet doors were open. She grabbed Metatron's Angel blade and quickly pocketed it, then winked herself to the kitchen. She filled a glass with water, then popped back out to the library, setting it on the table in front of Cas.

"Thank you, Miss," Cas said to her, reaching out with his cuffed hands to take the glass. "That was very kind of you."

Dean looked at Cas incredulously, and then he looked at Gail. "'Miss'? What the hell, Gail? What's really going on, here?"

"I told you, he's not quite himself," she said testily.

"Come on, Gail! He doesn't even know our names, or where he is!" Dean yelled.

"Don't yell at me, Dean!" Gail shouted back, but now, she blessed their friend, because he had just given her the excuse she needed for her next gamble. "Things are bad enough as it is!" She looked at the guards. "I'm going up those stairs there, and then I'm going outside for a breath of fresh air."

"No, you're not," the head guard said. "If you do that, you'll just take off."

"No, I won't," Gail said. She made herself start to cry. Actually, she was pretty much already there. All she had to do was look at Cas's bewildered expression as he looked at his surroundings, and at Dean and Sam's angry and confused expressions. She continued, "If you think I'm going to risk defying Patricia, you're crazy. I just need a breath of fresh air for a minute, before I lose my damn mind!" She was bawling now, and as she had hoped, the guards looked uncomfortable. Men often didn't really know how to behave around a crying woman. "Let her go, Rich," one of the other guards said to their leader. "She's not going anywhere. Not if she wants her husband and friends to live."

Gail looked at Sam and Dean, pointing her finger at both brothers. "You guys heard him. He means it. So, stay put, and talk to Cas. I'll be back in a minute," she said sternly. Then she pretended to storm up the stairs, and she let herself out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Wow. It had been a bit of an act on her part, but not too much of one. She WAS going to lose her damn mind, if they didn't take action soon. She looked out at the field behind the bunker. It had been reduced to a great big mud puddle. It was only drizzling rain right now, probably because Cas wasn't actively crying at the moment. So that was progress, anyway. But he'd told them before that once he had started the Flood, he hadn't been able to stop it.

Once again, Gail was gambling that Patricia wouldn't be watching her. Obviously, she'd gotten away with lifting Metatron's blade. But that was only a small victory. She stood there for a moment, sniffling loudly, just in case Patricia was watching her to see if she was staying put. But it was a fine line she was walking now. She couldn't just stand here doing nothing for too long either, or one of the guards would probably come looking for her. So she took a deep breath and crossed her fingers, hoping that what she was planning would work. Then, she made the calls.

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were trying to figure out how to talk to this new, strange version of Cas. On the one hand, he looked like himself, and he was sitting in his usual seat. But on the other hand, he didn't seem to have any idea who they were, where they were, or even who Gail was.

Sam had shown him footage of the floods on his laptop, and Cas had looked puzzled. "Are they saying that I am doing that?" he asked the brothers.

"Yeah, I guess so, Cas," Sam said.

"Why do you call me that?" Cas asked with a confused expression.

"That's what we've always called you," Dean said shortly.

"Oh," Cas said. "Well, I suppose that is a diminutive of my name. But, Father stopped the Flood, a while after Noah and his family sailed the ark."

The brothers exchanged glances again. Obviously, Cas was getting the present floods mixed up with the one that had happened back in Noah's day. They remembered that story, and the great laugh they'd had back then, when Cas had told them that he had inadvertently caused the Biblical Flood. But they sure as hell weren't laughing now.

Cas was looking around the room again. "What a peculiar looking place," he remarked. "Although, I must say, it's nice to see all of those books. I'm fairly certain I like to read, too. Where did the woman go? She seemed upset." He reached out and grabbed the glass of water with his cuffed hands, taking a sip. "She was kind to get me this, though. My throat is very dry."

"What did you guys do to him?" Dean barked at the guards.

"He's sedated," Rich said tersely.

"'Sedated'?" Sam echoed, incredulous. "He doesn't even know his own wife!"

"Get to the business at hand," Rich ordered him, gesturing. "You're supposed to be showing him the effects of the rain, so that he can stop it. That's it. Nothing more." He looked up the stairs. "If she's not back in five minutes, I'm going out there to get her. And you two had better hope she hasn't taken off anywhere. We have our orders."

Sam was frowning. "So Gail was serious about that? You would really kill us?"

Cas was staring off into space, and he smiled faintly now. "Gail? Is that her name? That's a nice name," he remarked.

"Patricia has given us our orders," Rich said to Sam. "I wouldn't try her patience, if I were you."

"What the hell kind of fascist organization is she running up there, anyway?" Sam said angrily.

"Fascist?" one of the other guards said. "Since when is it fascist to protect people from a murderer? That's all Patricia is doing. Castiel killed an Angel in cold blood, right after the election. That's why he's in jail, and that's why he's sedated. He's a dangerous, violent man."

"Look, pal," Dean said, jabbing a finger in the guard's direction. "If he killed an Angel, it's because that Angel did something to deserve it. Cas isn't some cold-blooded killer."

"There are thousands of dead Angels who would disagree with you," the third guard said bluntly. "But, what happens in Heaven is none of your business. He's only here because Patricia is allowing it. But as far as I'm concerned, you humans can all drown. You're lucky she's showing you mercy."

"Mercy?!" Dean exclaimed, irate. He gestured towards Cas. "You call THAT mercy? You're turned his brain into mush! Look at him! He has no idea what the hell's even happening!"

Cas was squinting at the videos of the worldwide floods that Sam was showing him on the laptop. Suddenly, he spoke: "That's not true. I know exactly what's going on. I was just testing out my powers. I wanted to see what it would be like to control the weather, and I obviously got a little carried away. Father was angry when I told him, but He said He'd take care of it. He said He'd been wanting to send the humans a message, anyway. So we should just leave things in His hands."

"Yeah, he knows exactly what's going on, all right," Dean said sarcastically. "He thinks he's back in the Old Testament, and Noah's gonna come along with his ark to save us all."

"Well, no, WE won't have to worry. It'll be the humans who'll need saving. The righteous ones, anyway. That's what Father said," Cas remarked calmly.

Dean let out a frustrated breath. "Great. Now he thinks we're Angels, Sammy."

Sam could understand the source of Dean's frustration, because he felt it, too. But the analytical part of Sam's brain was going to work now. There were several things he was currently thinking about. The first thing was this entire situation. Assuming that everything he and Dean were being told could be taken at face value, Patricia had been elected God, and then she had cut off all communications between the Angels and their friends on Earth, and she had prohibited visits to Earth, as well. Then she had sealed Heaven up so tight that not even Gabriel or Crowley, with their prodigious powers, could get in. Made sense; as far as Sam knew, God still trumped all of the players, as far as powers went. And, like it or not, Cas and Gail had warned all of them that this was exactly the type of scenario they had feared, if Patricia were to win the election. But now, Cas had apparently killed another Angel in Heaven. How, or why, they had no idea. Gail hadn't had the time to give them those details, when they had spoken briefly at Christmas. Murder was a capital crime in Heaven, the same as it was on Earth, so it only stood to reason that they had put him in jail. But why was he drugged to the gills, so much so that he had apparently suffered a break from reality? And why was Gail acting so scared? OK, maybe Sam knew the answer to that one, after all. Heaven didn't exactly have a stellar record when it came to due process. Look at the way they had railroaded Cas at the time of the tribunal. Was a similar situation taking place now? But Xavier had been after Cas then because Cas had been the next one in line for God's job, after Bobby had disappeared. Xavier had been the one who was right after Cas as far as succession went, so even though what he'd done to Cas had been brutal and heartless, at least there had been logic behind it. But Patricia had won the election, and Sam had been under the impression that even though she was a bit of a hardliner, she didn't necessarily have an axe to grind when it came to Cas. She'd even gone to Cas and Gail's wedding. It really didn't make any sense.

Then, there was the current weather situation. Cas could very well be causing it. Sam had seen him affect the weather before. But Sam was wondering now whether Gabriel had really gotten all of his essence back from Cas after the Area 51 fiasco. Maybe, if there were remnants of it remaining in Cas now, whatever drug they had been giving him in Heaven, supposedly to keep him docile, could be exacerbating the situation.

Sam asked Cas about this now, but he did so gently, as if speaking to a child. "I don't know what you're talking about," Cas said, his forehead wrinkling. "Who's Gabriel? What's an Area 51?"

Sam sighed, frustrated. How were he and Dean supposed to help, if Cas had no idea who they were, or any recollection of any other weather-related events besides the Biblical one? But then, it dawned on Sam: maybe he and Dean weren't really supposed to help, at all. Maybe their only function at the moment was to serve as a great big diversion, while the real action was taking place outside the bunker.

"Tell us some more about the Flood, Castiel," Sam said earnestly, as the guards listened with interest.

The moment Gabriel arrived, Gail gave him Metatron's blade, telling him what she had in mind. Then, a moment later, Crowley showed up. He and Gabriel looked at each other with disdain.

"Yes, yes, I know," Gail said impatiently. "Archangel, King of Hell, opposite sides, blah, blah, blah. I don't want to hear it, and I don't have time for it. You're both going to join with me now, and help me get Cas out of Patricia's clutches. I don't care what it takes. I don't care what I have to do for either of you in return. I'll do it. This is how desperate I am, you guys. Anything. I mean it. But if we don't bust him out now, he's going to die in prison, drugged out of his mind. And I'll be reduced to ashes, because the next time I see Patricia, I'm going to claw her eyeballs right out of her head, just before she smites the crap out of me."

Crowley smirked. "Now, THAT'S the Gail I'm used to seeing. I brought both blades, as you requested." He opened up his suit jacket and took out his own Angel blade, handing it to her. "Treat this with the respect it deserves," he said to Gail. "As it is, I can't believe I'm letting you use it." His lips twitched. "But, I suppose we have to get my brother away from that bitch. Otherwise, who'll be there to get angry when I make risque comments about you, holding my blade?"

Gabriel snorted with derision. "OK; number one, risque comments are my job. And secondly, I know he was your brother way back on Jump Street, but you lost the privilege of calling him that when you stuck that knife in his thorax."

"I told you, I don't have time for this!" Gail exclaimed. "The mood I'm in right now, I'll kick both of your asses without even breaking a sweat. And if you think I'm joking, just try me."

Gabriel smirked. "I guess it's true what they say, about couples starting to act like each other after a while," he remarked. Crowley's lips twitched as he took Lucifer's blade out of his other pocket. "All right, sweetheart, let's get this done," the King said.

Gail was surprised. That was it? She had been prepared to do a lot more yelling at these two. But she'd better get moving now. She'd been lucky so far, but in another minute, one of the guards was going to come looking for her, or Patricia was going to peek outside and see who Gail was standing here with now, and then they'd all be toast.

"OK, the top priority is to throw sand in Patricia's eyes, so I can buy a bit more time to figure out how we're going to get Cas away from her," Gail told the men. "I'm going to need you to steal a hex bag from your mother," she said to Crowley, bracing herself for his reaction.

"No," he said shortly.

"What do you mean, 'no'?!" she exclaimed, frustrated again. "If we don't have that hex bag, everything else falls apart!"

"Well then, get your Brother here to get it for you," Crowley said coolly, waving his blade towards Gabriel. "He knows exactly where she is. He told me so himself. He can just fly in there on gossamer Angel wings, and fly right back out again. Can't you, Gabe?"

"Get that thing out of my face, and for once, I'm not making a double entendre," Gabriel said with an edge to his voice, gesturing to the Angel blade in Crowley's hand. He was too annoyed to go for jokes right now. They were wasting precious time, and the King of Hell was being a coward. "You just don't want to go there because you're scared of Raguel. Fine, then. I'll go. Holler if he tries anything while I'm gone, Kitten." He vanished.

"What the hell was THAT all about?" Gail asked Crowley, puzzled.

He gave her a half-shrug. "He seems to think that Mummy and Raguel are romantically involved. Apparently, they've been spending a lot of time together."

"Oh," Gail stated. While she was trying to figure out whether she cared, Gabriel popped back with the hex bag in his hand. Gail thanked him, pocketing it.

"Now, if you guys will wave your magic blades and cloak me, I'll pop down to the library and get the spell book," she said to the men. "When I was studying it to figure out how to bring Dean back, I saw a misdirection spell in there. If I do it right, Patricia will be watching a totally different scene in the bunker than the one that's really happening. That'll buy me some time, at least. And then, if I could get you guys to put an extra layer of protection on this place while I'm doing that, we should be OK for a while."

"Once we do that, are you going to send the guards out here?" Crowley said, waving Lucifer's blade again.

"What?" Gabriel said sharply. "Why?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure that, if you try really, really hard, you can figure it out."

"No," Gabriel said, shocked. "No. I won't be a party to that."

"What exactly do you think is going on here, Gabriel?" Crowley said, irritated. "What do you suppose the stakes are? You're rebelling against God, not pulling one of your pranks. God. And from what I've seen, she's got a chip on her shoulder a mile wide when it comes to all of you. We're not getting together for tea and crumpets, here. If we allow those guards to live and the shield breaks, that'll be it. If you want your bloody Angel back, we have to move, now. As it is, I must be out of my mind to be sticking my neck out like this. Just remember what you said about helping me with my mother and Raguel, if I help you, now." He looked at Gail. "You know I'm right, sweetheart."

Gail frowned, but she said nothing. The thing of it was, he was right. If Crowley was willing to help by disposing of those big thugs with their Angel blades and syringes full of poison, shouldn't she give him the green light? Look at what they had been doing to Cas this whole time. But then she looked at Gabriel, who was shaking his head vigorously.

"No," Gabe repeated. "That won't be happening."

"Really?" Crowley said coldly. "They have thrown Castiel into prison, and reduced his brain to tapioca. Are you going to let them just get away with that? Do you have any regard for your Brother, or not?"

Gabriel's jaw clenched. "I can't have you murdering Angels, Crowley. Two wrongs don't make a right." He looked at Gail. "You're with me, right?"

Her expression was neutral. For a minute, Gail was seriously considering Crowley's viewpoint. She honestly was. But then, she checked herself. "Yes, I'm with you, Gabriel," she said, looking at Crowley. "We're not here to murder anybody, we're here to save Cas."

"Fine. Don't say I didn't offer," Crowley said, shrugging. He started to wave Lucifer's blade over the perimeter of the bunker. "Off you go, then."

Gabriel glared at the King of Hell for a moment. Then he started to wave Metatron's blade over Gail, to start the shielding process. "Little help, here?" he said to Crowley, irritably. Crowley smirked briefly, and then he came over to assist in the operation.

A moment later, they gave her the go-ahead, and she popped herself inside, hoping the two of them wouldn't have killed each other when she came back out.

As Gail moved quietly to the spot where she remembered the spell book to be, she prayed that Sam hadn't relocated it. Luckily, it was still where she'd filed it last, and even more luckily, the shelf was in the back. She wondered what Sam and Dean would do with the sight of a book just lifting itself right off the shelf. Of course, considering the world they all lived in, they might not even bat an eye.

It was strange to be here, invisible like this. She'd thought at first that maybe the guards might be able to sense her presence somehow, but she still had that warding tattoo she'd gotten when she and Cas had been on the run. But Cas had lifted his head when she'd first popped back in, almost as if he could. Well, Gail had told him once that love trumped everything. She hoped that would be the case.

She shoved the book in her pants and covered it with her top. Curiosity had gotten the better of her now. Gail could hear them talking about the Biblical Flood, and she wanted to hear what Cas was saying now, and to study his face, when he couldn't see that she was looking. But she put the book under her clothes first, just on the off chance that they would be able to see it floating around, seemingly of its own accord. How the hell did she know how these things worked? It wasn't as if she'd had any experience with this sort of thing.

As Gail moved quietly out from behind the bookshelves, Cas was saying, "You see, I not only wanted to know what would happen if I made it rain, but how it would FEEL when I did. I knew that we weren't supposed to think like that, to concern ourselves with feelings, and emotions. But I've always been different that way. I have always felt things more intensely than anyone else." He paused for a moment. These men had finally gotten through to him, telling him that he wasn't back in Noah's day; that this weather was occurring in modern times. But their conversation had led him down the path of reminiscence now.

"Father had imbued me at that time with the power of revival, as well," Cas went on, his expression thoughtful. "I also wondered how THAT would feel. But, sadly, I never got the chance to use it. It hurt so much when Father punished me by taking that ability away from me. And it damaged something inside of me when I knew that I would be unable to revive Gail in Las Vegas, when she died there."

The brothers exchanged a glance. They'd been egging Cas on, encouraging him to talk about the Flood because the guards seemed so interested. By now, both of them had realized that Gail had to be up to something outside, so they were trying to buy her as much time as they could.

Gail's heart leapt when she heard Cas say that. So, he DID remember her, and some of their past together! That gave her hope, and it also strengthened her resolve to get him away from Patricia, and away from those injections.

"I felt tremendous guilt about so many things back then," Cas continued, looking downcast. "I felt responsible for Metatron being free, and for Frank still being in Hell, among other things. Yet, it was Gail who kept getting hurt. All of her misery was my fault. So I Demonized myself, and I became the monster in my own eyes that I'd always feared myself to be. But then, Sarah still wouldn't leave me, so I had to leave her, instead. And now, look where we are. The wages of Sin are suffering. Eternal torment. God kept on saying that to me, and she was right."

Sam and Dean were looking at him, incredulous. Just when they'd started to think that Cas was becoming lucid again, he'd apparently descended back into delusion. But of course, they weren't privy to any of the Demon stuff that Cas had rattling around in his head right now, not like Cas and Gail were. Gail stood, frozen in shock. On the one hand, she continued to feel optimism about Cas regaining his memory. If he could remember those things about her, Metatron, and Frank, he could remember more, once he got that poison out of his system. And her heart swelled with love for Cas when he'd talked about her so tenderly. Even when he called her Sarah, due to the confusion brought on by the drugs, she knew he was talking about her. But the other things he was talking about? Suffering, and Sin? That was all Patricia's brainwashing, and it made Gail mad.

"All right, Castiel. This isn't Oprah, or whatever your humans watch on television in the afternoon," Rich said irritably. "The history lesson was kind of interesting, but now, it's time to get back to business."

Gail gave her head a shake. He was right; she had to stop dawdling. She popped outside immediately.

Miraculously, neither Gabriel nor Crowley had killed the other in her absence. Gail lifted her top just enough to be able to wiggle the spell book out of her pants, and Gabriel grinned at that. He remembered when she had put that tube of his essence in her bra for safekeeping, back in that lab at Area 51. In his opinion, the first thing any enemy should do if they captured Gail was to look in her clothes for anything valuable. This thought set off a chain reaction of so many jokes he didn't have time to tell right now that Gabe thought he might actually implode. But, his poor Kitten was looking grave right now, so, with some effort, he reined himself in.

She flipped open the book to the spell in question, scanned it quickly, then said, "Seems easy enough. But I'd better hurry." She dug into her pocket for the hex bag and waved it at the bunker door, speaking the incantation from the book. Then she threw the bag at the door. It broke, releasing a cloud of smoke, which permeated the bunker door and then disappeared.

"That'll have to do it," she said to Crowley and Gabriel. "I have to get down there. Thanks, you guys. I'll be in touch as soon as I can."

"You'd better hurry, if you want to have an Earth left to visit," Gabriel remarked, looking at the field behind the bunker. The rain had intensified again, and the field was becoming more water than mud now. "Pretty soon, you're gonna need Moses and his Staff to part - " He cut off his sentence abruptly, shaking his head. "Boy, am I stupid," Gabriel added.

Gail glanced sharply at Crowley, about to admonish him for the snarky remark he was sure to make, but he merely smirked. "Are you kidding? That one's much too easy for my rapier-like wit, sweetheart. But, just to clarify, which particular moment of idiocy are you referring to now?"

Gabriel ignored him. "The Staff of Moses," he said to Gail. "That's how Cas can save the Earth. And I know exactly where it is, too. When he and I were in the weapons room annex in Heaven, I saw it there, leaning up against the wall."

"Fantastic," Crowley said sardonically. "And just how do you propose we GET the bloody thing? Heaven's sealed up tighter than a virgin's - "

"Wait a minute," Gail interrupted him. "It's a long shot, but...does anybody know if Metatron's secret portal was ever closed? Cas was talking about Metatron's escape from prison in there a minute ago, and I remembered that Metatron had another, secret Portal in a playground, the one that only a couple of people knew about. Cas told me about it, way back when. I know the one at the prison was sealed, but I'm wondering about that one. I'll bet Patricia doesn't know about it." She started to get excited. "I'll tell you what. Let's see. And if it works, we'll just leave it as our little secret, for now."

"Well, it looks like you have things in hand, so I'll be getting back," Crowley told the Angels. "Give a call, if you need to." He looked sharply at Gabriel. "Remember our deal." He winked out.

"What was THAT all about? What deal?" Gail asked Gabriel suspiciously.

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just sold him my soul. It's OK, I wasn't using it, anyway." Then he grinned. "Don't look so scared. I'm only kidding. I'll tell you what. I've got Metatron's blade. So tell me where that playground is, and I'll go and see if it'll open up the Portal. If it does, I'll go up there and get the Staff. You wouldn't be able to get into that room, anyway. Remember?"

Gail thought about that for a moment, but only for a moment. She was out of time, and she was out of options. "OK, but make sure that's ALL you do," she said sternly. "I don't want all of the stuff we've done here to go to waste." She told him where the Portal was located, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and walked towards the bunker door.

Rich heard the bunker door close, and he saw Gail descend the stairs. Lucky for her. He'd been just about to come up there and get her. Castiel was crying again, and frankly, it was a pathetic display. Rich had received instructions from Patricia to give Castiel another dose of medicine if he thought that Castiel was reverting to his violent self, but Rich didn't know what she'd been worried about. The so-called violent monster just sat there, talking about Sin, and regret. And his buddies, the famous Winchesters, looked bewildered and hurt, and not dangerous at all. Rich was almost disappointed.

"It's really starting to come down out there," Gail remarked casually. She had given the spell book to Gabriel for safekeeping, but she still had Crowley's blade in her pocket. He hadn't asked her for it back, and she felt better having a weapon anyway, just in case.

"You'd better focus your husband, then," Rich said nastily. "At this rate, your humans will all need scuba gear soon."

"This joker thinks he's pretty funny, doesn't he?" Dean said angrily, jerking his thumb at the head guard. Gail could see that his jaw was clenched so hard that it looked like he was barely able to move his mouth. Gail knew just how he felt. She'd been feeling that same exact way for months now.

Gail risked a look at Cas now, and she could see why Dean was so furious. Her husband was crying again. It both broke her heart and made her extremely angry, at the same time. The guards were smirking, and Crowley's blade felt very heavy in her pants pocket. Maybe that was why the King of Hell had left it with her; in case she reconsidered, and decided to go with the method he had suggested. It was extremely tempting at the moment.

"Are you OK, Cas?" Gail asked him softly. It was kind of a stupid question, but it was the only thing she could think of to say right now.

Cas looked at her. "I'm all right, Gail. I'm just struggling with a few things."

She was elated. "So, you DO remember me!" she exclaimed.

He gave her a tight smile. "Yes, I do. For the moment, anyway." He gestured to the chair next to his, his chains rattling with the motion. "Please, sit down. I would love to seat you, but..." He showed her his wrists, giving her a sheepish look.

She couldn't help but smile. Gail sat down next to him, not taking her eyes off him, and Cas's heart felt warm now. He looked down at her hands. How he would love to feel her hand in his right now. Didn't they used to hold hands a lot? There was something about the way that the four of them were sitting here now that was so familiar to him. It was like having the name of a song right there, on the tip of your tongue. Cas looked at Gail. His wife. He loved her with all his heart, but he was afraid of her, too. Patricia had told him that the way he felt about Gail was wrong, and Patricia was God. Those kinds of feelings led to Lust, Patricia had said, and Lust was a Sin. Everybody knew that. Castiel pictured Gail sitting in his lap, kissing him. He would kiss her right back, using his tongue, and then he would lift her top, caressing her bare skin. She was so soft. She would be telling him how much she loved him, asking him to please take her to bed immediately. And he wanted to do that. He really did.

Suddenly, Cas pounded his fists on the table, making Gail jump. "No!" he shouted. "That's wrong! That's the bad thinking!"

"What are you talking about, sweetie?" Gail asked him, alarmed. She had been taken in by his lucidity, but now, he seemed to be regressing.

Rich reached for the syringe in his pocket, but that was the only outburst. "Please sit over there," Cas said to Gail, nodding towards the opposite side of the table. "I need you to sit over there, Miss."

She sighed. She'd thought that he had made a breakthrough. But, even though it hurt, she had to concentrate on the important things right now: stopping the floods, and getting Cas the hell away from these guards and their syringes. She rose from her chair, looking daggers at the guards. "I don't know how we're supposed to get through to him if he doesn't even remember who we are, half the time," she said bitterly.

"Well, you'd better figure it out soon," one of the other guards said. "We're not gonna stick around here for much longer."

"You're eternal beings," Sam pointed out, tight-lipped. "Where else do you have to be today? Auschwitz?"

Gail looked at him sharply, and she could see now that Sam was almost as furious as Dean. Maybe even more so. She almost smiled. This was what she'd been missing: people to support her and Cas, and who would get mad on her husband's behalf. She sat down in-between the brothers and put her hands on their arms, giving them both a brief squeeze of appreciation.

"We've got to get him to stop crying, somehow," Gail said to Sam in a low voice. "I might have something in the works that'll clear up the floods, but we need to slow the waters down, for the time being."

"I agree, but how are we going to do that?" Sam replied. "He doesn't look like he's exactly in the mood for jokes."

"I've got an idea," Dean said. He rose from his chair, but Rich said, "Where do you think you're going, 'Pal'?"

Dean pointed. "Over there."

"Yeah, I don't think so," the guard said. "Send her, if you want something. We've heard about you Winchesters."

Dean rolled his eyes. This guy had obviously never seen Gail kicking ass during the year of the death squads. But even though he didn't like it, Dean understood the need for restraint right now. He sat back down. "Fine," he said tersely. He looked at Gail, then told her in a soft voice what he had in mind.

Things were looking up, now. Gabriel had gone to the designated spot, laid Metatron's blade on the ground, and watched as the Portal opened up. The entryway was camouflaged, but it was there. "Attagirl, Gail," he said, smiling. Then he picked the blade back up and walked through.

Patricia had been watching the activities in the bunker keenly, but so far, everyone was toeing the line. The misdirection spell was in place, but as of right now, the differences were very subtle. What she was seeing was Gail, Sam and Dean talking to Castiel, telling him it was his duty to stop the rain. He didn't want to let God down, did he? She had been very generous in letting him come down here in the first place, after all.

The scene that Patricia thought she was witnessing now was a version of the real one, but the spin her mind had put on it was the way she preferred to think of the situation. All of them obeying her, respecting the authority of her Office. Talking about her generosity.

Patricia's phone rang. "I'm sorry to bother you, Ma'am," Hector said apologetically, "but we've got a problem, here."

She frowned. Hector was the head of the Portraits Division in Heaven. She had sat with him a while back for her official portrait. He had taken several photographs in several poses, and she had chosen her favourite one. It was going to be mass-produced and hung in all of the important places in Heaven.

"Why? What's the problem?" she said crossly.

There was silence for a moment, and then Hector said, "I think you'd better come and see for yourself, Ma'am."

Patricia sighed. "All right, fine," she said, tight-lipped. She hung up the phone and popped herself over to the studio.

Hector was standing there waiting for her, with a folder in his hand and a distressed look on his face. She was going to be angry, but he had absolutely no explanation for what he was holding in his hand, and he'd been unable to think of a way to tell her about it over the telephone.

"Well? What is it?" Patricia demanded.

"There has been a problem with the photos," Hector said hesitantly, gesturing with the folder. "I'm afraid you'll need to have a look at them to see what I'm talking about."

He extended the folder to her. Patricia snatched it from him and opened it. She stared down at the photos, puzzled by what she was seeing. She flipped through the pictures, and they were all identical. But none of them were pictures of her.

Patricia looked up at Hector, open-mouthed. "Are these...?"

"Pictures of someone's naked rear end. Yes, Ma'am," Hector confirmed nervously. "I have no idea how it happened, but each and every proof looks like that."

Patricia thrust the folder back at him. "That's disgusting! If I find out who is responsible for this, they will be severely punished!" she shouted at him.

"Yes, Ma'am. Of course, Ma'am. As they should, Ma'am," he stammered. "Would you like to reschedule the photo shoot?"

"Yes, of course I want to reschedule the photo shoot, you imbecile!" Patricia yelled.

Gabriel was clutching his stomach, laughing, trying to keep from sliding down the wall. He wished his little Kitten was here to see this. She would probably quip that there was no need to reschedule, because those photos were an extremely accurate representation of Patricia. He looked at Metatron's blade. It was amazing, the places in Heaven he could get into with it. Between this blade and Gabriel's powers, poor Hector didn't stand a chance. What the head of the studio was currently holding were a couple dozen high-gloss photos of Gabriel's butt. Gail may have cautioned him against side trips, but Gabe had the feeling that this particular one would garner her approval. Maybe he would even earn a smile from her, and another kiss on the cheek.

He hefted the Staff and popped back to the Portal.

Dean sent Gail to the bunker's safe, and when she reached in and felt around on the shelf, her fingers closed on the white feather. She picked it up and wheeled around, astonished. "Where did this come from?" she asked the brothers.

"I was sitting here one day praying for you and Cas, and it drifted down from the ceiling, into my hands," Dean told her.

"Get outta here," Gail said, open-mouthed.

"Does that sound like something I would make up?" Dean asked her impatiently.

Gail approached Cas slowly, with the feather in her hand. "Do you remember this?" she asked her husband. He looked at her blankly. She tried again. "The night you proposed to me, a white bird landed on the terrace, and he gave you one of his feathers. Then we knew that God the Father had sent the feather to us, to signal His blessing on our engagement. The original feather is in my Wedding Memory Book in our suite in Heaven. You gave me that book as a gift, for our anniversary. But this one is just as significant, because Father obviously sent it to Dean as a sign of hope."

She sat down in the chair beside him, pulling the chair closer to him. Cas looked at her face, then down at the feather, and then back up at her face again. The vague expression on his face was discouraging. There was no way they were going to be able to jog his memory like this, not when he was in this state. If it worked at all, it would take too much time. The whole planet would drown, in the meantime.

Gail sighed. She put the feather in his hand, but she was careful not to make any physical contact. If she saw one more look of fear and confusion on his face at her touch, she thought she would probably start to scream, and never stop.

"Promise me you'll put that feather in your pocket, and take it back up to Heaven with you. Maybe you can take it out and look at it whenever you're feeling sad or alone, and try to remember how much I love you." She gestured to Sam and Dean. "How much we all love you. Try to remember who we are together. Love isn't a sin, Cas. Patricia is wrong."

"That's blasphemy," Rich told her angrily.

"Really?" Gail said tartly. "But, locking somebody up without a trial and drugging them so heavily that they can't even remember their own loved ones is okie-dokie?"

"You have a smart mouth on you," one of the other guards said sharply.

"Gee, you know what? I've never heard that one before," Gail said to him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But just the fact that you're saying it now leads me to re-evaluate all of my life choices."

A snicker escaped from Sam, and Rich let out a frustrated breath. "You're just wasting our time now. As far as I'm concerned, you humans can all drown. I have no idea why the original God would have made all of you in the first place. You're just wastes of space."

"No, that would be you, Gigantor," Gabriel said. He'd popped into the bunker and was standing behind the guards now, hoping that spell that Gail had cast earlier was still working. He tossed the Staff of Moses to Dean. "Think fast." Then, he put his hands on Rich's and one of the other guards' heads. "Little help here, Kitten," Gabriel said, gesturing with his head to the other guard. She rushed forward to incapacitate the third guard. All three of the guards had been caught completely by surprise. They crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Sam and Dean's faces both broke into big grins. "I thought I was Gigantor," Sam said to the Archangel, pretending to be hurt.

"Hey, give me a break. I didn't have much time for improv," Gabriel said, dusting off his hands.

"What's this?" Dean asked, waving the Staff.

Gabriel rushed forward, reclaiming it. "Be careful with that. It's the Staff of Moses. You can't just wave it around like that. It's got immense power."

"The Staff of Moses?" Dean echoed. Then he smiled. "Cool."

"I brought it for Castiel," Gabe said. "He's gonna use it to stop the floods." He looked down at Cas. "Aren't you, Brother?"

"Who are you?" Cas asked him, puzzled.

Gabriel looked at Gail, who was scowling. "I told you it was bad," she said to him. "OK, first things first. We can only deal with one major problem at a time. We'll get Cas to stop the rain, and clear the floods. Then we'll all have to brainstorm like crazy. Those guys won't be out forever." She looked at the Winchesters. "We're going to have to figure out how to hide Heaven's highest-ranking fugitive from God, who can see everywhere. See if there's anything in your books about THAT." She looked down at the guards with contempt. "Watch these guys, please. We'll be right back. I hope."

She and Gabriel took Cas by one arm each and winked him outside. He stood there, open-mouthed, looking at the steady rain and the muddy field. "Am I doing this?" Cas said in a hushed voice.

"Apparently, you are," Gabriel said dryly. "That Patricia is a laugh a minute. She looks just like her picture, by the way."

"What?" Gail asked him, puzzled.

"Remind me to tell you later, Kitten. It's hilarious," Gabe told her. "But for now, it's time to get back to business." He stuck the Staff in Cas's cuffed hands. "You are Castiel, Angel of the Lord. This is the Staff of Moses. Clear your mind, and visualize the rains halting, and the water leaving the land. Then, hit the ground with the Staff three times, and the flood waters will dry up."

Cas regarded him calmly. Then he closed his eyes, and a minute or two later, he did as Gabriel instructed. The blue glow flowed from his hands and through the Staff, and after the third tap, the rain had stopped, and the water was gone.

"Wow," Gail breathed. "That was amazing."

"I know, right?" Gabriel said with good humour. "One day, when all the drama in our lives is over, we'll have to go to the annex and take inventory. There's some really badass stuff in there."

"I'd like that," Gail said with a tremulous smile. "But right now, it's time to solve our next problem."

The Angels winked Cas back down to his seat at the library table. "If you check your laptop, Gigantor One, you should see that the situation has been resolved," Gabriel said to Sam. "You've been promoted to Gigantor Number One, 'cause that guy on the floor sure looks like Number Two to me."

"Everything looks good now," Sam advised, checking his computer. "Way to go, Cas."

"Now, how are we going to KEEP him here, you guys?" Gail said, looking at the men.

"How long does that misdirection spell last?" Gabriel asked her, handing her the spell book back. She looked at him in surprise, wondering where he had been keeping it, then she decided that she didn't want to know.

"How'd you get that?" Sam asked the Angels, while Dean said, "What's a misdirection spell?"

"I don't have time for questions right now!" Gail exclaimed, agitated. "Those guys are going to wake up any minute, and we'll have lost the element of surprise, next time. They've got Angel blades and syringes, and they've been instructed to kill you guys, if you cause them any trouble. Gabriel and I can fight them, but, look at them. They're huge. And they have powers, too."

"I don't care," Dean told her. "There's no way. They're not taking him back there. That's b.s. Not on my watch. I'm not gonna let them take him back to just rot in some stupid Hannibal Lecter isolation cell. Not gonna happen."

"Relax, Rambo," Gabriel said dryly. "Slow your roll. We're gonna have to figure out how to do this the non-violent way."

"Who said anything about violence?" Sam said, but Gabriel was shaking his head. "I've seen you two in operation," the Archangel said. "But, hey, if you've got a diplomatic solution, I'm all ears."

There was silence for a moment as they all thought furiously. This seemed like a hopeless situation. Even if there had been no guards, how could they keep Cas with them, as long as Patricia was God? Sooner or later, the spell that Gail had cast would surely wear off. And even if it held for quite a while, if Patricia was so inclined, she could just check her computer. If she did, she would see that the crisis on Earth had passed. But then, she would be expecting Cas back. And if she didn't get him back, she wasn't exactly going to be in a benevolent frame of mind.

"I'll tell you what," Gabriel said slowly. "I think what we need here is a bit more time. So why don't you guys cuff the brown shirts here, and I'll go back up to Heaven and provide some distractions for Patricia, so she won't have a chance to look at her computer for a while. What do you think, Kitten?"

"What do I think? I think the day we found you in Area 51 was one of the luckiest days of my life, that's what I think," Gail said to him warmly. "Thank you for everything you're doing for Cas."

Gabriel shrugged uncomfortably. He wasn't used to being spoken to so nicely. Part of that was his own fault, of course. Gabe's personality was a mixed-up version of Archangel ego and Trickster smartass, with a soft, creamy centre way, way inside. Some of the reasons he acted out so much were his own, and they were very private. If Gail kept this up, he was going to end up blabbing to her about his past, and the reason he was so anti-violence. But that day wouldn't be today.

"Hey, he ain't heavy, he's my Brother," Gabe said offhandedly. "I'll see you around." Then, he vanished.

"Go get those sigil handcuffs from the storeroom," Dean instructed Sam, who was already leaving the room. "I'm on it," Sam called out, over his shoulder.

"That man seemed nice enough, but he also seems a little strange," Cas remarked.

"You got that right," Dean replied.

"Don't be so hard on him, Dean. He's helped us out a lot," Gail said to their friend.

"Yeah, well..." Dean grumbled. He looked at Cas. "You OK, there? You need anything?"

"No, Dean, I'm fine," Cas told him softly. "That is your name, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's my name, Cas," Dean said quietly. He looked at Gail. "What the hell is Patricia's problem?"

Gail sighed, as Sam came back with three pairs of sigil handcuffs from the storeroom. "I don't know, Dean," she said in answer to his question. "She's been gunning for us for a long time now."

"But this seems extreme, even for a hardline Angel," Sam said, tossing a pair of cuffs to Dean.

"I agree," Gail said, frowning deeply. "Hey, can you guys frisk them first, and get the keys for Cas's shackles? If I have to look at him in chains for much longer, I'm gonna lose it."

Dean checked Rich's pockets. He was the biggest guy, and he talked like he was the leader. Sure enough, there was a key ring in his pants pocket. Dean tossed them in Gail's direction, and she caught them with both hands. Then she went to unlock Cas's handcuffs.

"There you go, sweetie," she said, as the cuffs came off. Gail let them just fall to the floor. "Now, let me get those other chains off, and then you can have a stretch. You'll feel much better once you can move around unencumbered."

"You're very kind," Cas told her, and she smiled. "I love you, Cas. Even if you don't remember right now, that's OK. You will."

But when she moved to his waist to release the shackles on the lower part of his body, Cas shrank back from her again. Gail sighed. Baby steps. "Dean, could you come here for a second?" she asked their friend. "I'm sure he'll let YOU do it."

"I don't want to go back there," Cas said suddenly.

"You won't have to. We promise," Gail assured him.

"Ummm, guys..." Sam said. Both Dean and Gail were looking at Cas. Dean took the keys, reached down and unlocked Cas's chains, and they fell to the floor with a clanking sound.

"Guys..." Sam said again. Rich's eyes had fluttered, and now they opened, and the other guards were stirring now.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rich roared. He grabbed Sam by the throat and flung him away. Then he threw his arm out, and blasted Dean across the room, away from Cas.

"Please, no violence," Cas pleaded with Rich, who laughed. "Look at you," the guard said contemptuously. "The great Castiel, afraid to fight. How pathetic. OK, that's it. You're done. Let's go back to Heaven."

Gail stepped in front of Cas as Rich advanced on him. "You're not taking him back to Heaven," she told the guard.

The guard smiled derisively. "Who's going to stop us? You?" he sneered. "My wife had a pet chihuahua bigger than you."

"I'll bet you that dog had some pretty sharp teeth, though," Gail said tartly. She took Crowley's Angel blade out of her pocket, but left it closed for the time being.

"What's that you've got there?" Rich asked her, taking his own blade out of his pocket.

"Insurance," Gail said shortly.

Sam had picked himself up off the floor now, and he was approaching one of the other guards quietly. If he could cuff the guy, that would improve their odds. But the cuffs jingled in his hand, and the guard wheeled on him, blasting him across the room.

Dean charged Rich, but the other guard blasted the elder Winchester in the opposite direction.

This was the scenario that Gail had feared the most, and her heart sank. She sprang Crowley's blade open. "Stop hurting my friends, or you and I are going to have a problem," she said to Rich. Predictably enough, he laughed. He twirled his Angel blade in his hands.

"No violence. Please," Cas said again. It wasn't clear which one of them he was talking to.

Rich grabbed Gail by the arm. "Looks like your husband's reputation is all hype," he said.

"Well, mine isn't," she said, struggling against his grip. He was hurting her, but there was no way she was letting him take Cas back, at least not without the fight of her life. She slashed at his hand with Crowley's blade, making him loosen his grip. He yelled in pain and anger. Then Gail charged him, arms and legs and blade all flailing away. Oh, this was going to be bad. She had successfully fought guys that were twice her size before, but not three of them all at once, each one bigger than the last. And, bless their hearts for trying, but Sam and Dean couldn't help her in this situation, not really. They would just keep getting knocked around until they were unconscious, or worse. She looked quickly at Cas. He had a horrified expression on his face. Great. The only other person in the room who could fight these guards on their own level, and he was just about as scary as a newborn puppy, at the moment.

She kicked Rich in the shin and slashed at him again, and he bellowed with rage. He hadn't really wanted to do this, but she was giving him no choice. He stabbed her in the shoulder with his Angel blade, then lifted his other arm and blasted her. She went flying over the library room table, knocking Sam's laptop to the floor. She got up immediately and charged Rich again, as Sam and Dean fought the other guards.

"Why don't you just give up?" Rich yelled at Gail, as she came for him again.

"I'll never give up!" she shouted. "What you're doing to Castiel is wrong, and if you're too blind to see that, then you're stupid, too!"

Rich grabbed her and flung her into one of the bookshelves, hard. It tottered, but mercifully, it stayed upright, or it would have come crashing down right on top of her. As she slumped to the floor, dazed, she saw Cas, running away from the scene, down the hallway. Oh, great. Just great. Terrific. Her husband, the fierce and mighty warrior, was frightened by the violence. Well, she supposed it was just as well. Now he wouldn't have to watch his wife and his best friends die.

Gail struggled to her feet. Rich was looming over her, his Angel blade in his hand and a smirk on his face. "We had to put my wife's dog down, when it became too vicious," he said to her.

Gail cringed as he raised the knife. But suddenly, his smile disappeared, and a bright glow emanated from his chest.

Rich crumpled to the floor to reveal Cas standing behind him, a bloody Angel blade in his hand. "He should not have hurt you," Cas said stiffly. He reached out his hand slowly, tentatively. He touched her shoulder, healing her wound.

"Cas, how did you...?" she asked, astonished.

"I went to the weapons room," he told her. "Luckily, the cabinet was standing open, so I didn't have to destroy it."

Despite the situation, Gail smiled. It was good to see that he remembered about the weapons room. The longer he went in-between injections, the more of his memory Cas seemed to be getting back. And just the fact that Cas had run to get a weapon to defend her, and not run away, was so like the real him that it warmed her heart.

But there was no time for sentimentality right now. The other two guards were kicking the crap out of Sam and Dean. She ran over to the one that was choking Dean and plunged Crowley's Angel blade into his back through his chest, killing him instantly. Dean was coughing, trying to get his breath back. Gail helped him roll the heavy vessel off of him.

Sam and Cas were fighting the other guard, and the guard was putting up a fierce struggle. He blasted Sam across the room, and when Cas charged him, the guard went into his pocket and brought out the syringe. He brandished it, and Cas backpedaled. The guard smiled, advancing on him. He slashed at Cas with his Angel blade while Cas's eyes were fixed on the needle. Cas's torso started to bleed as the guard's blade cut his jumpsuit to ribbons.

Dean had had it. Cas still had the bloody Angel blade in his hand, but his arm was hanging limply at his side now. Dean ran over to his friend and grabbed the blade, then stabbed the guard with it, multiple times.

They all stood there for a moment, panting heavily from the exertions of the fight. Great. Just great. Now they had three more dead Angels. Patricia was going to have their heads on a stick.

"Crap!" Gail said, letting out a frustrated breath. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Sam fumbled for a chair and sat down heavily, holding his head in his hands. He knew exactly how Gail was feeling, because he felt the same way. The situation had escalated so quickly that there hadn't really been any time to stop it. But the guards hadn't helped things any, either. As far as Sam was concerned, they'd been spoiling for a fight ever since they'd gotten here.

Dean dropped the Angel blade he was holding, cursing loudly. His voice was still hoarse from the choking he'd received. In his opinion, those guys deserved exactly what had happened to them. He looked at the syringe the guy who had attacked Cas had dropped, wishing the guards were still alive so that they could inject them with that junk, and see how they liked it. He gave the needle a vicious kick and it flew across the room, shattering against the wall.

That action broke Cas's paralysis. He looked down at himself. The slash wounds on his torso were bleeding, and the upper portion of his jumpsuit was in tatters.

Gail moved forward, slowly. "Will you let me heal you?" she asked her husband, extending her hand. He nodded, and she touched his chest, and then his stomach.

The wounds were healed in an instant, but then, Cas looked down at himself again. Then he looked away, avoiding her gaze.

"Please do not look at me," he said to her. "I am not decently clothed."

She didn't know whether to laugh, or to cry. Once this fiasco was over, she would have to pencil both into her schedule. Maybe even at the same time.

"Really?!" Dean exclaimed. "Really? We just busted you out of Heaven's Alcatraz, killed your guards, and God's gonna have a cow. And you're worried about showing a little skin?"

"Please, Dan. I am not decent," Cas said uncomfortably.

Dean heaved a sigh. "Okay, I'll get you a - Wait a minute. Did you just call me 'Dan'?"

"I'm sorry. I can't remember," Cas said in a small voice.

"I'll get you a shirt from my room," Sam said, rising wearily from his chair.

"No, wait. I have a better idea," Dean said. He walked around to each of the three guards' vessels and kicked them all, hard. There was no movement. "Just making sure," he said, smirking. He pointed a finger at Gail. "Sit down before you fall down, and wait here," he ordered her. "Come on, Cas. Sammy and I will get you fixed up."

Cas followed the brothers down the hallway as Gail sank into her usual chair at the library table. She looked down at the bodies, and the blood. Why did this kind of thing always seem to happen to them? And what the hell were they supposed to do now?

VIGNETTE - I DON'T KNOW HOW TO LOVE HIM

Dean slid open the closet door in Cas and Gail's old room. Their clothes were all gone, of course, but there was a garment bag hanging in the corner. Dean brought it out and laid it on the bed. "There," he said to Cas. "Open that up, put it on, and then tell me what my name is."

Sam smiled as Cas unzipped the garment bag. Cas's old suit and tie and trenchcoat were all in there, cleaned and neatly pressed.

Cas ran his fingers down the trenchcoat's sleeve. He said nothing, just continued to stare at the outfit.

"Go ahead and put it on, and we'll meet you back in the library," Dean said softly.

"Can you stay here while I dress?" Cas asked the brothers. "I've been so lonely in prison, without anyone to talk to."

Their hearts broke for him. Poor Cas. How on earth Gail had been dealing with the situation all this time was unimaginable. No wonder she seemed ready for the looney bin, herself.

As Cas started to dress, Sam asked him, "Do you remember us now?"

"It comes and goes," Cas said, dropping the remnants of his jumpsuit on the floor.

"Do you remember how we met?" Dean asked him.

Cas took the shirt off its hanger. "I gripped you tightly and raised you from perdition," he said calmly.

Sam allowed himself a brief grin. "I always thought we should market that, and put it on mugs, or T-shirts," he remarked. "It's a great catchphrase."

Dean looked at his brother, did a double-take, and then decided to ignore him. "Man, were you ever different when you first got here," Dean said to Cas. His Angel friend had donned the shirt now, and was slowly buttoning it.

"Oh? How so?" Cas inquired.

"You had a stick up your butt," Sam said mischievously.

"That's impossible," Cas said, doing up the cuffs of the shirt now. "I didn't have a vessel when I rescued Dean."

"Did you just tell a joke, Cas?" Sam asked him.

Cas eased the pants off the hanger. "Why? Did I not do it right, Sam?"

"You remembered my name," Sam stated.

Cas put the pants on. "Yes," he said simply. "And you are Dean. Correct?"

"Yeah, Cas," Dean said, sighing with relief. "And now, for the million-dollar question: Do you remember Gail?"

Cas frowned. He had the tie around his neck now, but he was holding both ends of it, looking puzzled. "What do I do with this?" he asked the brothers.

"Here, let me help you," Sam said, coming forward. He tucked the tie under Cas's shirt collar in the back, and began to tie it in the front.

"Leave it loose," Dean said to his brother. "He likes it loose."

Sam was scrutinizing Cas's face closely. Why had he avoided Dean's question? Did he remember Gail, or not?

"I'm an Angel of the Lord, and you are humans, correct?" Cas asked him.

"Right," Sam replied.

"Then what am I doing here? Why are we together?" Cas persisted.

"Because you're our family, Cas," Dean told him.

"The Angels are my family, are they not?" Cas asked, a confused look on his face. He was removing the suit jacket from its hanger now, and shrugging it on.

"No, they're not," Dean barked. "Anybody - " His voice broke, and he had to start again. "Anybody who will do to you what they did to you is not your family, Cas. We are. Gail is."

Cas looked thoughtful. He picked up the trenchcoat, examining it. "Is this coat necessary?" he asked the brothers. "I already have a jacket on."

Sam grinned again. He couldn't help it. Cas sounded almost like the old Cas, but with a sense of humour, instead of a stick up his butt. Their friend was in there, all right. It would just take a little patience to bring him out. And a lot of love.

"Put the coat on, Cas," Dean said impatiently. That was his particular way of expressing his love for his friend.

Cas donned the trenchcoat obediently. "How do I look?" he asked the brothers.

"Like yourself," Dean said shortly, and then his tone softened. "Like our brother."

"Your brother. Hmmm," Cas remarked.

The men walked back out to the library. Gail's mouth dropped open when she saw Cas, and she rose slowly from her chair. Her eyes prickled with tears as she was thrown back to their first meeting, right here in this room.

"Except for the beard, you look like the same guy I met right here, years ago," she told Cas softly.

His hands flew to his face. He had completely forgotten. Cas immediately winked himself to the bathroom and grabbed the electric razor from the medicine cabinet, running it over his face. Fortunately, the guards had trimmed his facial hair before he'd left the prison. Cas supposed he hadn't been allowed to shave himself or trim his beard with scissors, in case he had been inclined to try to commit suicide. And truthfully, he had been feeling so low ever since Christmas that it may not have been an unreasonable notion.

But he felt differently at the moment. He looked in the mirror to shave now, and he saw that he had blood on his face and hands from the fight, so he washed up at the sink. Now he was washed, clean-shaven, with a new set of clothes on, and he was free from his chains. Cas no longer felt like a prisoner, and despite the fact that he had just murdered another Angel, he didn't feel like a killer, either. Those men had been attacking Sam and Dean, who had no powers, and were unarmed. And as far as Gail was concerned? Castiel was thinking about her now. In point of fact, he had never stopped thinking about her. Even in his less lucid moments, when he hadn't exactly been sure who she was, Castiel had known that he was supposed to be a champion for her. But now, as he saw himself dressed this way, he was starting to remember having met Gail right here, in this building. She had needed his and the Winchesters' help back then, and they had come to her rescue. But things had not exactly turned out the way they had hoped. Instead of saving her brother Frank, he had died. And then, Gail had also died. But, God the Father had been merciful in Gail's instance, allowing her to make the choice between continued existence as a human, or ascension. When she had chosen the latter, Castiel had known that she loved him the way that he loved her, and he'd been ecstatic.

Under the ancient laws, Angels were required to be celibate. And they had been, for quite some time. Castiel had been content just to be near her, or to hold her hand. But when they had gone to Las Vegas for their vacation as humans, that weekend had been a "game-changer", as the expression went. The moment they had become intimate with each other, Cas knew that he could never go back to a life of celibacy.

But now, the chemicals that he had been dosed with and the indoctrination that he had undergone at Patricia's hands were doing battle with these feelings. Was sex wrong, even if it was with the one you loved above all else? And if so, why was it wrong?

There was a light tap at the bathroom door. "Cas? Are you OK?" Gail's voice, muffled by the door and the softness of her tone.

"Yes, I am all right," Cas replied. "I was just cleaning myself up, so I could be presentable to you. Come in, if you like."

She opened the door and regarded him. "You look wonderful," Gail told him. "But then again, you always have."

Cas smiled, pleased by her compliment. "I'm starting to remember, now," he told her. "You and I met here, in this place." He paused. "I fell in love with you here."

Gail returned his smile. "That's right. We fell in love with each other here." She reached out to him, extending her hand. "Could you do me a favour, Cas? Could you take my hand, just for a minute? I've missed you, so much." A tear ran down her cheek.

"Please don't cry, my love," he said to her. He took her hand. "I've missed you, too."

Now she burst into tears, and he swept her into his arms. "I've always loved you, and I always will," Cas said softly. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

She was crying even harder now, burying her face in his chest. All of those days and weeks of separation from her husband, not knowing how he was doing, or what they could be doing to him. Wondering if he would ever be free. They were definitely not out of the woods yet, but it was just so good to see Cas acting like himself again, and to be held by him once more.

Gail sniffled back her tears. She pulled out of the embrace to look at Cas's face, and she laughed when she saw that he had a wad of toilet paper in his hand. He dabbed her face gently with it. "Any port in a storm," he said wryly. "I seem to find myself without a handkerchief at the moment."

She laughed again, as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. And Cas was smiling gently at her now, looking like the cutest man she had ever seen. On impulse, she grabbed his hand and kissed it. He cupped her cheek with his hand, stroking it with his thumb. Suddenly, he pulled her to him and kissed her on the mouth. She kissed him back eagerly. They really shouldn't be wasting time making out right now, Gail thought. They had two very angry Winchesters in the library, three dead Angels on the floor, and one very vengeful God in the form of Patricia, who could only be bamboozled for so long. But, she had missed this so much. It had been torture to be apart all this time. She opened her mouth to his, as Cas's arms tightened around her.

But then, he broke the kiss. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I shouldn't have done that. I don't want to lead you down the path of Sin."

She let out a frustrated breath. Obviously, this was going to be a work in progress; at least for a while, anyway.

"OK, Cas. We'll talk about that later. But right now, we've got bigger problems. We have to figure out how to keep you away from Heaven," she said. She grabbed his arm and winked them both out to the library area.

While Cas had been cleaning himself up, Gail had cleaned the blood from herself, and the brothers. Now, they were all looking at the three dead Angels, lying on the library floor.

"Crap. What are we going to do now?" Sam fretted.

"We're gonna have to take the rap for killing those guys," Dean said soberly. "If she thinks Cas had anything to do with this, he'll be in even worse trouble than he is now."

Gail laughed shortly. "I don't think that's even possible," she remarked. "In any event, there's no way we can let him set foot in Heaven again. We can't afford to take the chance. Even if we all swear up and down that he wasn't involved, Patricia wouldn't believe us. And even if she did, it wouldn't matter, anyway. She's been looking for an excuse to get rid of him, and this'll be just the thing she needs to put him away for good. It'll be Xavier all over again. Oh my God, you guys. What are we going to do?"

They all stood there for a moment, staring down at the dead Angels. Then Gail sighed. "I'm going to try calling Gabriel. Hopefully, he can help us come up with something." She concentrated, sent out the call, and he appeared a couple of minutes later.

Gabriel looked at Cas, and then he did a double-take. "Is it Throwback Thursday already?" he quipped. "Should I put my fake moustache on?" He looked at Sam and Dean. "Oh. Flannel. What a surprise."

"I'm so glad you heard me," Gail said to him. "I was afraid you wouldn't able to. Patricia jammed all our outgoing frequencies when we were up there, but we could still get prayers from Earth."

"No sweat, Kitten," he told her. Then he looked at Cas again. "How are you feeling, Brother?"

"Better, Gabriel, thanks," Cas said.

"Good," Gabriel said briskly. He gestured up and down. "And I'm not sure I ever bought into this look, but it beats a prison jumpsuit anytime, am I right?"

As Cas nodded, bemused, Gabriel looked down at the floor where the bodies were, and he stopped short. "Awwww, geez," he moaned. "I leave you guys alone for five minutes, and look what happens."

"They attacked us," Sam protested. "We didn't have a choice."

Gabriel was frowning. Now, he was pretty sure he knew why Castiel had had to change clothes. Cas's marbles might be a little bit rearranged right now, but some things, you never forgot. Gabriel sighed.

"I think I'm getting a germ of an idea," Gail said slowly. "But first, I think we need to get rid of those bodies. How are things in Heaven, Gabriel? What's going on up there?"

"As far as I know, she's still unable to see in here," Gabriel replied. "I made sure she had a few distractions, but if she saw this mess, I'm sure you would have heard about it by now."

Gail nodded. That was true enough, she thought. If Patricia could see that there were three dead guards on the floor, and Cas out of chains, she would flip out. The bunker would probably be a smoking crater by now. They had to stash the bodies somewhere, at least until they could figure out what they were going to do about Patricia.

"OK, here's what we're going to do," Gail said. "We're going to send these guys to Chuck's office, in back of the library. Then you'll pop up there and help him figure out what to do with them."

"No, I don't want to do that," Gabriel said quickly.

"I don't feel very well," Cas said suddenly. "Why are those men laying on the floor? Why is there so much blood?" He looked at Gabriel. "Who are you? Did you kill them?"

Gail's heart sank. Damn it. He must be backsliding again. She supposed it was going to take a while for the drugs to wear off. After all, they'd been systematically dosing him for a long time now. She looked at Gabriel, giving him a half-shrug.

But as Cas sank down into a chair at the library table, Gail let out a frustrated breath. Gabriel had been a huge help up to this point; why was he balking now? Was it because of the dead bodies? He was raising this anti-violence thing he had going on to an art form. "Look, Gabriel, I don't have time for this," she said irritably. "You're our only conduit to Heaven right now. I'm not letting Cas anywhere near the place. Look at him. Patricia would make mincemeat out of him. Fine; can you go to the Academy and get Riley and Kevin, then? Maybe they can help Chuck figure out what to do with the bodies. But don't involve Ethan. He's still got a few connections in law enforcement up there, so he might still be a resource. If any of those guys get caught, we might need Ethan's help. Can you please do this for us? Please? We still have to figure out what we're going to do about Patricia, but my brain is running on fumes here, and I can't concentrate with those guys laying there!" She was becoming dangerously close to tears again, but she was trying to battle her emotions. She didn't have the luxury of going on a crying jag right now. She had the feeling they were running out of time.

"OK, Kitten. Don't get your whiskers in a twist," Gabriel said mildly, hoping for a smile. But Gail was just about at the end of her rope now. She scowled at him, and he moved obediently over to the guards' bodies. He gave them the push, then winked out again, without another word.

Gail sighed heavily. "After this is all over, I'm going to have to make nice with him again," she said to the brothers. "Maybe I'll get you guys to host a huge, booze-filled party. We'll get him all liquored up and then I'll beg his forgiveness. Either that, or God is going to smite the crap out of us in a few minutes, and then it won't matter."

"Father would never do that," Cas remarked. "He loves us."

Gail and the brothers exchanged glances. Great. Cas was down the rabbit hole again.

"You know what, Cas? How about you just try and focus for a minute, here?" Dean said impatiently, but Sam shook his head. "You're not being fair, Dean," he chided his brother. "There's a chemical imbalance in his brain right now, sort of like a temporary mental illness. I might know a little something about that," he added wryly. "Let's try a different approach."

Sam looked at Cas. "Hey, Cas, remember the time that you and I and Dean talked to Cupid?"

Cas gave him a thin smile. "Yes, of course I do. It took me about a week to recover from his affectionate embrace."

There was that humour again. "How about that time you punched that guy out in Las Vegas, when he said that thing to Gail?" Sam asked immediately.

"My hand hurt," Cas replied. "I had to put it in a bucket of ice."

"Who's God right now, Cas?" Sam shot back.

"Patricia," Cas said tersely.

"It's a technique that teachers use with challenged students," Sam explained to his brother and Gail. "If it looks like they have retention problems, oftentimes they do have the information stored somewhere in their brain. Sometimes, you just have to trick it out."

"'Oftentimes'?" Dean said, making a face.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam retorted automatically.

Cas had been looking down at himself during this exchange. The brothers' bickering and Sam's rapid-fire questions had helped Cas to recover his equilibrium now. He was touching his trenchcoat, remembering various adventures he'd had with Sam and Dean. Did he really used to wear this same outfit every day, all the time? He felt sentimental about many other things, but quite frankly, he preferred to wear a different outfit every day, just for variety. And he knew that Gail liked the way he dressed now, too. Still, it had been very nice of Dean and Sam to have kept this clothing here for him this whole time.

Cas thought about what Dean had said back there in the bedroom, when Cas was putting on these clothes. He realized now that Dean was right. Your family was supposed to love and support you, and that was what the three of them had been doing. His wife and his best friends. He looked at Gail. She and the brothers were talking amongst themselves now, trying to think of a way out of the dire situation they were in. Poor Gail. She had been through so much on his behalf. Cas was fighting himself again. Patricia had hammered away at him back at the prison, telling him that it was wrong to love humans, and that it was wrong to love his wife in the human way. The wages of Sin were eternal torment. Why did he think that he'd had so many tribulations throughout his entire existence? It was because he had led a life of Sin, succumbing to pleasures of the flesh. The wages of Sin were eternal torment, she'd kept repeating. Didn't Castiel realize that by now?

Cas touched his trenchcoat. Every time he turned around, an Angel was telling him that there was something wrong with him. Patricia, Xavier, Naomi. They had beaten and subjugated him, thrown him into prison, tortured and brainwashed him. They kept telling him that humans were the problem, but if that was the case, why was it the Angels who kept hurting him like that, trying to bend him to their will?

Then again, on the other hand, Cas recollected several occasions when Dean had also beaten him, and Sam had threatened him. Cas could have simply raised his hand and obliterated them, but he never had. Even when Naomi had pushed Castiel to his limit, attempting to force him to kill Dean, he had ultimately been unable to make himself do it.

And now, Sam and Dean were treating him with such kindness, sheltering him from Patricia. And Gail was telling him how much she loved him, still, even after everything he had put her through. She had even risked barking at an Archangel, successfully making Gabriel jump to do her bidding. And why not? She was a formidable woman. He'd wanted to be a champion for her, and all this time, she had been a champion for him. Tears prickled at his eyes. He knew who his real family was.

"The candlesticks," Cas said suddenly, and the three of them stopped talking to look at him.

VIGNETTE - A SILENT PRAYER FOR THE HAUNTED

"OK, I'll say it: what ABOUT the candlesticks?" Dean asked Cas.

"We will have to drive Patricia out of the High Office with our golden candlesticks, as we did with Lucifer. Technically, it's treason, but it's the only way. She is dangerously unbalanced, and she must be stopped," Cas said firmly.

Gail's mouth dropped open. Cas was right; the method they'd used had been effective in getting Lucifer out of God's office. But, Patricia WAS God. An evil, terrifyingly crazy God, but God, nonetheless. Would that even work? If only they had a way to be sure. Because once they confronted her, they would be all in. There would be no going back.

She sighed heavily. "OK, guys. This is it. We're going to have to try it. But you'd better pray this works; otherwise, we're all toast. I'll go over to Frank's and get the other candlestick, and then I'll be right back."

"I'll call Frank and let him know you're coming," Sam said, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.

"No. Don't," Gail said quickly. "I love those guys, but I don't have time for a bunch of questions right now. The longer Patricia stays in that Office, the riskier it is for all of us. If I can, I'm going to try and sneak in and out of there without any of them seeing me. Where do they have it?"

"It was on the dining room table, when we were there at Christmas," Sam told her.

Gail faltered for a moment. Christmas. For a second, she felt such white-hot hatred for Patricia that she was lightheaded. She and Cas should have been there, and Bobby should have, and all of their Angel friends, too. And Barry and Tommy and Carolyn. Patricia was trying to cut them off from their family, and Gail and Cas from each other, and Gail still had no idea why. All she did know was that she was so done with Patricia, and her love of the ancient ways. Patricia was God; if she loved the old days so much, why didn't she just send herself back in time? Maybe she would like to go back to the caveman days, when men clubbed women over the head and dragged them back to the cave by their hair. Or maybe the so-called New World, where Gail had found out the hard way that any woman who didn't conform to the ideals of Puritan society would be branded a witch, and put to death. How would Patricia enjoy an eternity of being passed around from man to man like chattel, having no say in her own life?

"I'll be right back, sweetie," Gail said to Cas. Then she vanished from the library and reappeared in Frank and Jody's dining room. The house seemed quiet, but she'd meant what she'd said about not wanting to encounter anyone right now. So she grabbed the candlestick off the dining room table and immediately winked herself back to the bunker.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Cas?" Gail asked her husband. "Yes, I'm fine," Cas assured her. He stood from his chair, grasping the other candlestick. "The sooner we can oust her from the Office, the better we all will be."

Dean was frowning. "But if you kick her out of the place, won't she still be God?" he asked the couple.

Gail froze. Crap. She hadn't really thought of that. She'd just been so eager to be proactive about their problem that she hadn't stopped to follow the thought through. She looked at Cas, making a face. "He's right, Cas."

But Cas smiled thinly. "He WOULD be right, ordinarily. But there is a loophole. If she is driven out of the High Office by God, she will then revert to the status of an ordinary Angel."

"Ummmm...I hate to tell you this, Cas, but God is retired," Sam said dryly. "He's left the building, hasn't he?"

Cas looked at Sam, and Sam automatically opened his mouth, preparing to provide an explanation for the colloquialism. But, to his surprise, Cas merely smiled slyly. "I didn't say it had to be the original God, did I?" he said. He turned to Gail. "I may or may not have added an extra clause under Item 567, Clause 13, Subsection 1.7, in the new lawbook."

"What are you talking about?" Gail asked him, thoroughly bewildered.

"That's the part containing the election bylaws," Cas explained. "I thought we should have a failsafe in place, just in case the wrong person was elected. So I put - I believe the slang expression is - a 'nuclear option' in there, the night before Bobby ratified the laws with God's seal. I didn't tell you about it because it seemed so far-fetched at the time. And, I confess, I was acting selfishly. I wanted the laws to go through because I was so eager to rebuild our life together. I thought that if I told you, you would want to bring it before the board for debate, and that might delay ratification. I thought that one little clause wasn't worth the delay it might cause."

Gail thought about that for a moment. She guessed she wasn't too mad about that, but: "But, Patricia burned that rule book in the boardroom, right in front of me!"

Cas gave her a half-shrug. "Those laws were ratified by God. Bobby's seal was on them. She only burned a ream of paper."

Gail started to smile. Her husband was back. She moved around the table to stand beside him.

"Do me a favour, and call Frank now," Gail said to the brothers. "Let them know we've got their candlestick, in case they notice it's missing and turn the place upside down looking for it. With any luck, we'll be returning it very soon."

"Thank you for reminding me who my real family is," Cas said to Dean and Sam, taking Gail's hand. And before either Winchester could form a reply around the lump in his throat, the Angels were gone.

"Patricia's doing the re-shoot for her portrait, so she'll be occupied for a while," Gabriel told the assembled group.

Liz giggled again. When Gabriel had told them all what he had done when he'd originally come here to get the Staff of Moses for Cas to use, Liz and Gail had burst out laughing, clutching each other for support. Gabriel had grinned proudly. That had been one of his better ones.

A small core group of their trusted friends had been gathered in Cas's old campaign office when Cas had sent the word that they were coming, and that they had a plan. Gabriel had gone to escort the couple through Metatron's portal, and now he and Liz, Bobby, Riley, Chuck, Laurel, Kevin, and Ethan were gathered together. No Becky, though. Even though she had helped them help Gail to contact her family on Earth at Christmastime, the Musketeers all agreed that Becky was a weak link. She was way too gossipy, and the men didn't entirely trust her.

"So, it's settled," Cas said to the group now. "I will take Bobby to one corner of Heaven, and Gail will take Riley to the other. They will tell their secrets, and then, Bobby and Gail and I will confront Patricia. The rest of you will remain here, and follow Gabriel's lead. If something goes wrong, or if he instructs you to do anything, please do so."

"I love being in charge," Gabriel said, grinning.

"Maybe YOU should be God, then," Liz said, nudging him. "We'd all be having a lot more fun, that's for sure."

"Oh, believe me, you don't want me as your God," Gabriel said with a smirk. Then he winked at her. "Well, maybe I could just be YOURS."

Liz giggled again as Gail said, "Well, on that note, we'd better get going. Hopefully, we'll meet you all back here in a few minutes." Or, die spectacular deaths, she thought, with a flutter in her stomach. But she smiled encouragingly at Cas and Bobby, then took Riley's hand and winked him away.

Seconds later, Cas and Bobby were at the corner of Heaven opposite Gail and Riley.

"I'm glad to see you looking like yourself once again," Bobby said to Cas. "But, I got so used to seeing you in different clothes that for a second there, when you showed up in that trenchcoat, I thought we'd gone back in time." His beard twitched briefly. "Are you OK though, Cas? Really? I know what it's like to get your signals crossed, in a manner of speaking."

"I believe I am OK," Cas told him, "although I still have some strange thoughts."

"Give it time," Bobby said, putting his hand on Cas's shoulder. "Just remember, we're all here for you."

"My family," Cas said warmly. Then he shook himself out of his reverie. They had work to do. He handed the candlestick to Bobby.

"I hope that what I have to say won't bug you too much," Bobby said. "But, you said that it had to be a secret. What I have to say, nobody knows about, and I hope you won't judge me for it. But I wanted to do my part. Patricia's got to go, Cas. I feel really bad about what she did to you. You know if there was anything I could have done - "

"Gail told me you tried to intervene on my behalf," Cas interrupted him. "I don't blame you for not convincing Patricia that what she was doing was wrong, but I do thank you for the attempt. Say what you have to say, Bobby."

Bobby held the candlestick aloft. "When I was with Gail's group in Europe during the year of the death squads, I was seeing Rowena, behind everyone's back. And I still really miss her, sometimes, if I'm being brutally honest. But, it's my fault that she went after Frank and his family, or at least, I feel like it's my fault. I knew she could turn on any one of us at any time, and yet, I still led her on, so that I could get my rocks off. But you know what, Cas? I loved her, too. A part of me still loves her. But, the minute you came to tell me that she sent that hex bag to Frank's house..." His voice cracked. "I'm done with her, Cas. I swear I am. If and when I ever get back to Earth, the first thing I'm gonna do is apologize to Frank and Jody, and the second thing I'm gonna do is to make sure she knows we're through."

As soon as he finished speaking, the beam of light shot out from the candlestick.

"Thank you, Bobby," Cas said soberly. "I'll go over to where Gail and Riley are, now. Once Riley has his candlestick activated, we'll bring someone here to spell you, to hold your candlestick in place. Then, you and I and Gail will confront Patricia."

Bobby nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He had been wondering what Cas's reaction to his confession would be. But still, Bobby had requested that it be Cas who accompanied him here, rather than Gail. He hadn't wanted her to hear what he had to say about Rowena. Considering what might have happened to Frank and his family, Bobby thought he would rather take his chances with Cas. Besides, he'd wanted a moment alone with his old friend. It was so surreal to be standing here with Cas, while Cas was clad in his old suit and trenchcoat.

Cas looked inscrutably at Bobby for another moment, and then, just as he was about to leave, the light from the candlestick abruptly went out.

Riley had been so relieved to see Cas that he'd nearly burst into tears. When his mentor had showed up hand in hand with Gail, in that weird-looking outfit, the young Angel had been astonished. He'd been in a pit of despair ever since Cas had been thrown into that cell. Riley felt guilty about so many things. If Riley had only worked a little bit harder, or pushed Cas a little bit more, Patricia might not have even won the election, he'd been saying to everyone. But his guilt ran way deeper than that. He'd taken over the teaching at the Academy because that was what Cas would have wanted, he was sure. At first, Riley had been under the mistaken impression that there would be a trial, and that he could testify on Cas's behalf. He knew Cas. Cas was no cold-blooded killer. Both Cas and Gail had said that Scott had attacked her, and that Cas had only killed Scott to protect Gail. But Patricia didn't seem to care. She had locked Cas up and thrown away the key, and she wouldn't even let Gail see him. Patricia's cruelty had astounded Riley. And then, as the weeks had stretched on, the guilt had started to gnaw away at Riley. So when they had asked for volunteers to tell a secret that would hopefully oust Patricia, Riley had stepped up eagerly, wanting to atone. And he had been especially happy to see that Cas was going to accompany Bobby, because Riley hadn't wanted to confess his secret in Cas's presence, if he could help it. Although if Gail chose to tell Cas afterwards, there would be no way for Riley to stop her. But the important thing was to set things right now.

So when Gail handed Riley the candlestick and he held it aloft, Riley gulped, then said, "I voted for Patricia in the election."

Gail's mouth dropped open. "What?!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Gail," Riley said, and now, he was crying. "I'm so sorry."

"Why? Why did you do that, Riley?" she said angrily.

Riley was trying to get a hold of himself now, but it was hard. He'd had a selfish, lame-ass reason for doing it, and he didn't think it was going to sound any better coming out of his mouth than it did in his head.

"Because I was afraid that if Cas became God, he wouldn't have time to hang around with me anymore," Riley said in a small voice. "I told myself that my one vote wouldn't make a difference either way. But now I realize that it was much bigger than my one vote. I betrayed Cas, because I was being selfish. I'm so sorry, Gail. I hope you can forgive me."

The candlestick started to glow, and the beam of light shot out of it just as Cas popped in. Mercifully, he had missed Riley's confession. But Gail couldn't think about that right now. Once they got rid of Patricia, she could decide what to do with all of the emotions she was feeling.

But Cas was frowning. "We have a problem," he told them.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. When DIDN'T they have a problem? "Is it Patricia?" she asked her husband fearfully.

"No," Cas replied. "Bobby's secret didn't work. We can only theorize that someone must have known about what he thought that he was keeping secret."

"Do you mean, if even only one other person knows, it won't work?" Riley asked the couple.

"That's the premise we're going on, yes," Cas answered him.

Crap. The beam of light emanating from the candlestick that Riley was holding sputtered, and then it went out. "I told Efram my secret, but I made him promise not to tell anybody else," Riley said sheepishly. Now, he felt even worse. Not only had he betrayed his friend, but the confession of the betrayal hadn't even been good enough to help Cas out now.

Gail was so frustrated that she was speechless for a moment. What the hell did they have to do to get a break around here? "What was Bobby's supposed secret?" she asked Cas.

Cas glanced at Riley for a moment, but then he realized: if what Bobby had just confessed to wasn't enough of a secret for their purposes, it probably didn't matter if Riley heard. Besides, time was of the essence. What they were proposing to do was risky enough as it was.

He told her, and Gail rolled her eyes. "No wonder it didn't work," she said. "I already knew, Cas. I guess Bobby forgot that I'm an otherworldly being. I could sense her. But, I didn't say anything. As long as she wasn't causing us any trouble, I let it slide. We had enough on our plates at that time, and things were hard enough for us all as it was. I was fighting with Dean nearly every day, and knee-deep in blood, and missing you so much I thought I was going to stop breathing at any moment, and - "

"You don't have to explain, my love," Cas said. "We'll just have to try again, that's all. But we'd better hurry. I'm actually surprised we've remained undiscovered here for this long, as it is."

They winked back to Cas's campaign office, where their friends were waiting anxiously. Bobby was already there, and he was holding the candlestick, looking troubled. Who had known? Dean? Sam? Gail?

Gail wasn't telling. "OK, we need actual secrets, you guys," she announced. "And we'd better make it fast, before Patricia finds out what we're doing, and smites us all into oblivion. Dig deep, people. If you're too embarrassed to have us hear them, we can stand there with our hands over our ears, humming loudly. I don't care. But we're running out of time, here. We're going to be screwed if this doesn't work."

"I'll go with you, Gail," Liz volunteered, stepping forward. "I have a secret nobody here knows about. Guaranteed."

As Riley handed Liz the candlestick, Gabriel was eyeing Gail's friend. "YOU have a deep, dark secret?" he scoffed. "You're about as pure as the driven snow. What could you possibly have to confess to?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said tartly. "How about the fact that my life is none of your business?"

Gabriel did a double-take, and then he looked at Gail. "Wow. Are all the women from your old neighbourhood this sassy? If so, I might have to go visit there, sometime. Rowr."

"I wouldn't know," Gail responded, shrugging. "None of the other kids would have anything to do with us, growing up. But that's a sad story for another day. How about you, big guy? Surely, you must have a deep, dark secret or three."

Gabriel sighed. So it had come to this, had it? It was time for him to put up, or shut up. "All right, Kitten. You've charmed me into it," he said. "Never let it be said that I didn't do my part for Team Free Willy."

"That's 'Free Will'," Cas automatically corrected him.

"Hey, you free what you want, and I'll free what I want," Gabriel retorted good-naturedly.

Liz and Gail rewarded him with a burst of giggles, and then the female Angels winked out.

Liz looked at Gail. "I probably should have just volunteered to do this in the first place, but I was embarrassed. I didn't want you to think less of me."

"You're the best friend I ever had, and one of the sweetest people I know," Gail told her sincerely. "I really doubt I'll think less of you."

"OK. Here goes, then," Liz said. She lifted the candlestick, bracing herself for the beam of light, and for Gail's reaction to what she had to say. "My husband and I actually had a lousy marriage. He was an alcoholic, who told me that he suffered from sex addiction, just so he could have an excuse to cheat on me. I found out about one of his affairs, and I put my foot down and said he had to go to counselling. So he was just starting to do that when I was diagnosed. And then, I died. I was so unhappy, Gail. But I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to know."

Gail was appalled. "Why not? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't tell anybody," Liz replied sadly. "I was too embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?!" Gail exclaimed. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about! You did nothing wrong!"

"I was stupid, and I was naive," Liz said softly. "I loved him, and I wanted to make my marriage work. I was raised to believe that marriage was supposed to be forever. Till death do you part."

"Then, in that case, you should have killed him," Gail said sarcastically, making a face.

There was silence between them for a moment, and then, they laughed together. Liz reached out, and gave Gail a hug. "Thanks for being my friend, both then, and now," she said warmly, as the candlestick began to glow.

Gabriel stood facing Cas, almost defiantly. But then, as he pictured his Brother and little Gail, kissing and holding hands, his stance softened. The Castiel of the Angel Wars era would never have understood what Gabriel was about to say, but the Cas that he had seen being so gentle and loving with his wife Gail probably would.

Gabe took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Her name was Jennifer, and she was beautiful," he began. He cleared his throat. It was closing up already. All those years ago, and the pain was so fresh that it felt like it was yesterday.

"You know how brutal and bloody things were at the time of the Angel Wars," Gabriel continued. "Every once in a while, I had to step away, and take some time for myself. I wasn't cut out to be a killer, Cas. But you know that I did my duty back then, just like everyone else did. Just like YOU did. But I'm not a warrior, like you are. The things that we had to do back then, to our own Brothers and Sisters..." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat again. "If the violence affected you, you never let on. But there were some days I deserted my post, because I just couldn't take it anymore. That's when I started going to the diner on Earth, where Jennifer worked."

Cas raised an eyebrow in surprise. He thought he could tell where this was going. But he had no idea, Gabriel thought wryly. He had no idea.

Gabriel smiled faintly. "I'm pretty sure you'll know what I mean when I tell you that I used to like to go to Earth just to people-watch. It was a welcome respite from all the chaos going on in Heaven. There was just something about the diner. The hustle and bustle, the smell of coffee and franch fries, and the people, talking and laughing. The sounds, and the colour. This place was all white and grey back then, except for the red of the bloodshed." Gabriel paused, frowning. "Anyway, I'd better get to the point. But I wanted you to understand things from my point of view. Luckily, I don't have to explain to you what it's like to be in love. I know you already know."

"No, you certainly don't," Cas said, smiling warmly. "So, you and this woman fell in love."

"Oh, yes," Gabriel said with a faraway expression. "I used to order coffee, just so I would have an excuse to sit there and people-watch for a while. But then I found myself just watching her. Rushing around, serving people, pouring coffee, smiling and bantering with the regular customers. The cook was a crusty old bastard who used to yell at her all the time, but Jennifer just shrugged him off. Sometimes, a male customer would make a grab for her, but she would put him in his place with an even bigger smile, and he would stand down. She just had a way about her. I know you know what I mean."

"Yes, of course I do. You've met my wife," Cas said, his lips twitching. "Dean says that Gail is the only person he knows who can tell someone to go to hell, yet make them look forward to the trip." Gabe laughed as Cas added, "And, not only do I wholeheartedly agree with that statement, but I told Dean that she would also have you packing your own suitcase in preparation for the journey. Then, he laughed so hard that beer came out of his nose."

Gabriel shook his head slowly. Cas may be dressed like that old-school warrior with a stick up his butt, but Gail had obviously performed an overhaul on his personality that was nothing short of astonishing. Castiel must have been hiding his light under a bushel this whole time. Obviously, Gail had come along and removed the bushel, then burned it. Gabriel's admiration for her grew.

But, they were talking about Gabriel's own romance now. "Then she started bringing me slices of pie. This was back in the day, when a lot of people were down on their luck, and if you saw a man sitting in a diner in the middle of the afternoon nursing a cup of coffee, chances were that he was too broke to order something to eat, but too proud to say so. I told her I didn't eat pie, and she laughed, saying that was ridiculous. Everybody liked pie. So I would thank her, and then I would choke down the piece of pie we don't eat, and wash it down with the coffee we don't drink, just so I could see her smile."

Gabriel cleared his throat again. "Anyway, as the cliche goes, one thing led to another, and we fell in love. She said I was the most unusual man she had ever met. I asked her if that was good or bad, and she said she hadn't made up her mind yet, and that she would let me know, once we were together for a couple of decades." A tear fell from the corner of his eye, and he brushed at it with his hand. "So, we moved in together, even though I knew it was a bad idea. And, because I loved her so much, I told her all about me. About us. And she was so sweet, Cas. I told her I might have to disappear for days on end, but that I'd always come back to her. She said she didn't care; that she was just lucky to have me in her life. And she meant it, Cas. I may be an Archangel, but Jen was a damn Saint."

Gabriel paused. So far Cas's expression was sympathetic, but he hadn't heard anything yet. "So we were happy for a while, and I found that I could handle anything we did here, as long as I had her to go home to there. But then a few years passed, and as Jennifer was getting older, she told me that she had been re-evaluating her priorities. I thought: This is it, she's breaking up with me. She's had it with my constant disappearing act, and my moodiness when I come home. But, no. She said she loved me more than anything, and because she did, she wanted to have my baby."

Cas frowned, and Gabriel said, "I know, I know. You don't have to tell me. Nephilims are abominations. I even told her that. But then, she went to work on me. I suspect you know what that's like, too," Gabe added wryly. But then, he smiled ruefully. "I don't mean to be like that. There wasn't a bad bone in Jennifer's body. She just had so much love to give, and she was mortal. I have to admit, there was a part of me that really wanted to be a father. Say what you will about our Father, but you know he wasn't exactly very hands-on, as a parent. Jen told me I'd make a great dad, and I bought into the romance of the whole thing."

He cleared his throat again. "So, against my better judgement, I impregnated her. Then the Angel Wars ended, and she gave birth, and I was so happy, Cas. But you know where this is going, right? Sooner or later, bad decisions will always come back and bite you in the ass. Always. We had a happy little family life going there, for a couple of years. But then, my son started to turn. But it wasn't, like, Damien from The Omen, or anything. Not at first, anyway. It was more subtle than that, but it was there. The kid had grown so big in just a couple of years, he was almost as big as a young teenager. We all know that's pretty normal for a Nephilim. In fact, Jen and I joked about it. She said it was great that she'd only be pregnant for half as long as other women. But, the kid started to give me the hairy eyeball when he was about two, two-and-a-half. I tried talking to Jen about it, and she said he was just in the 'terrible twos'. I told her he wasn't a normal human kid, so she couldn't use the usual standards. I mean, look at the size of him. But she was just so in love with being a mom that she couldn't see the signs. And he started to turn her against me. I'd made the mistake of telling her that Nephilims weren't necessarily born either good or evil. We call them abominations, but we also know that it's basically the luck of the draw. If they're not inherently evil, they can blend into human society. There may be something a little bit different about them, a little bit off, but they can live their lives on Earth fairly unobtrusively. That's the flavour I was hoping for. But of course, it didn't go that way. Why would it, right? Maybe Dad was punishing me for having the hubris to think that I could break the rules. Or, maybe He was just being an asshat. I mean, the man creates humans and encourages us to love them, and when we do..." He trailed off.

Cas nodded, but he said nothing. If he interrupted Gabriel now, his Brother might balk. But the dread was starting to build now. This story was not going to end well.

Gabriel pushed on. Now that the edges of the Band-Aid had been picked at, it had to come off. Maybe now, the wound could finally begin to heal. But he had to finish now, before he lost his nerve.

"I told Jennifer he would have to die, and she told me I was crazy. She grabbed him, and then grabbed the keys to the car, and she said I was never going to see them again. I tried to tell her not to go. I begged her not to go." He started to cry silently again. "I couldn't stop her from leaving, Cas. Once she was gone, I thought I'd give her a little while to cool off, and then, we'd talk again. But then, I got a call. My son, the abomination, was calling from the motel room where his mother had taken him. He told me where they were, and he said that they both wanted to talk to me. I didn't trust him, but how could I not go? They were my family, Cas."

The tears were flowing freely down Gabriel's face now. "So I popped over there, and he was standing over her dead body, with my Angel blade in his hand. It was covered in her blood."

"No," Cas breathed.

"Oh, yes," Gabriel said bitterly. "So, I went nuts. I fought the little bastard, got the Angel blade away from him, and stabbed the crap out of him. And that whole time, he was calling me 'Daddy'. Like that made any difference at all. Then I washed the blood in the bathroom sink, and then I knelt over Jen's body, crying, asking our Father for forgiveness. Begging Him to have mercy on her. And you know what kind of answer I got? None. Not a damn thing. So I know that all of you think I'm a coward, and a dick, and a screw-up, and I probably am all those things. But I took my blade and popped over to the Mississippi River, and I threw it in. I haven't harmed anyone since, and I hadn't even touched a blade until Gail gave me Metatron's. But if it comes down to using it, I don't think I'll be able to, Cas. And I'll give you a bonus confession, too. I think that might be why I never really gave Sam and Dean a fair shake, when I first met them. Remember, they used to stay in those cheap motels all the time? Every time I saw one of those places, it threw me back to that day. The day I lost my family, and my heart."

The candlestick started to glow, and the beam of light that came out of it was blinding. And Cas was glad, because the shining of the light gave him an excuse to close his eyes against the tears he was shedding now, too.

As Liz and Gabriel stood in their respective corners holding the glowing candlesticks, the beams of light bounced around Heaven, searching for the reigning occupant of the High Office.

Patricia had finished her photo shoot, and she had just reached the front door of her office when the beams of light found her. They bounced around the reception area like searchlights, which was basically what they were. She gazed around, open-mouthed. What was going on?

She unlocked the door and hurried inside, slamming it behind her. But an instant later, the beams were back, bouncing around the Office. She backed up in terror until her rear end bumped up against the desk. An instant later, the door burst open, and Castiel, Bobby and Gail entered the room. Bobby was holding the white Bible that Patricia had used to take the oath of the Office, and he thrust it towards her now.

"In the name of the Father, I compel you to leave this office," Bobby said loudly.

Patricia looked at the three of them in astonishment. She shook her head vigorously. Was she hallucinating? Had it come to this, now?

"You are not going to touch me again!" she screamed. Suddenly, she was thrown back to that day. She tried to back away, but the desk was impeding her retreat. Just like that day, when Lucifer had backed her up like this and...

She slid down to the floor, whimpering. The three Angels all exchanged uneasy glances. They had expected anger, and defiance. But Patricia was babbling to herself now, talking about Lucifer.

"Oh, man," Bobby muttered. He handed the Bible to Gail and approached Patricia, sinking down to his knees beside her. "Patricia, it's Bobby," he said softly.

"Bobby's been sent to Earth," she said vaguely. "Lucifer banished him."

Cas knelt on her other side, examining her face. Was this some kind of a ruse, or had she suffered a break from reality? "Patricia, do you know where you are?" he asked her sharply. "Do you know who we are?"

She turned her head slowly to look at him, giving Cas a moment to reflect on the irony. A short while ago, he was the one who had lost his mind, and Patricia had been the one who was looking down at him. Now, the roles were reversed.

"Do you know who I am?" Cas said, when she didn't respond.

"Yes, I do," Patricia responded calmly. "You're the Devil."

Suddenly, she reached into her pocket and brought out the syringe she had hidden in there. "You're the Devil," she repeated, "and you will never hurt me again." She thumbed the plastic cap off and plunged the syringe into Castiel's thigh, emptying the contents into him.

Cas's sanity lasted just long enough for him to be sworn in, and the oath happened completely by accident. He sprang to his feet in surprise, batting at the needle. But the damage had already been done. The syringe fell to the floor, but its contents were already coursing through his bloodstream.

Gail rushed forward to check on her husband, and when she did, she dropped the Bible. It fell into Patricia's lap, and when Patricia put her hand on it, Cas bent down to snatch it away from her. In that moment, when they were both touching the Bible, the power of the Office transferred from Patricia to Castiel, who was the next in succession.

Their friends all began to pop into the Office. Bobby had sent out the call for Ethan to come, and to bring handcuffs. He had seen that the powers had left Patricia, but he didn't want to take any chances. So when Ethan arrived, Bobby told him to take Patricia to the jail for now, until they could figure out what to do with her.

But Bobby was more concerned with Cas, at the moment. He had yelled when Patricia had jammed the needle into his leg, and the first expression he'd had on his face was that of surprise. Then, Cas had looked angry when he had bent down to take the Bible away from her. And who could blame him? After everything Patricia had put him through recently, Cas had just begun to regain his memories and his equilibrium, and now, he was about to have one hell of a setback. That syringe had been overflowing.

Gabriel approached Cas now. More so than most of the Angels in the room, he recognized the look that was on Castiel's face now, and his heart sank. "Are you OK, Brother?" he asked tentatively.

"You must address me as Father, or God," Cas said formally.

"Did what I think just happened happen?" Gail asked Bobby, somewhat nonsensically. But he understood exactly what she was saying. "Yep," he said, frowning. "Cas is officially God now." And crazy as a shithouse rat, too, he thought. Great. Just great.


	6. The Gods Must Be Crazy

Chapter 6 - The Gods Must Be Crazy

Bobby, Gail, Sam and Dean were all sitting around the library table at the bunker, waiting for Cas to get changed.

After Patricia had been carted off to prison, Cas had looked down at himself. "This won't do," he had said. "I'm God now. This outfit is a thing of the past. It was worn by a flawed individual, a screwed-up Angel who was seemingly unable to make a move without making a mistake. I prefer my other clothing." He looked at Gail. "I will go to our suite and get a new outfit. Then we will go down to the bunker and return this outfit to Dean. It seems to mean something to him."

Bobby was frowning as Ethan and Kevin Brought Patricia to her feet and took her to the prison. "Don't it mean something to you, too, Cas?" he said in a quiet voice.

But Cas hadn't responded to Bobby's question. He had merely said, "You can come, if you like. I'm sure they have been missing you. Patricia's ban is hereby lifted. I will go to Earth whenever I please, and Gail will accompany me. You may come too, Bobby, as long as you ask me, first. I will see you there."

Cas popped himself and Gail over to their suite as Bobby stood in Patricia's former office, astonished. As long as he asked Cas, first? What the hell?

Gail had followed Cas into the bedroom of their suite, as soon as they'd arrived. He hadn't taken her hand; he had just looked at her, and suddenly, here they were. But, he was God. Gail supposed he could pretty much do whatever he wanted to now.

And normally, she would have been thrilled. In just a couple of days, their fortunes had completely turned around. Now it was Patricia who was in jail, and Cas who was God. But Gail was disturbed now as she looked closely at her husband.

"Are you OK, Cas?" she asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Why do I ask?" she echoed, incredulous. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because Patricia pumped a syringe full of poison into your leg a few minutes ago?"

Cas shrugged. "It does not matter. I am God now, and she will be made to answer for her crimes." He strode out of the room without another word, and she trailed after him.

Cas walked into the bedroom and opened the closet, surveying the clothes contained in it. "Which outfit, do you think?" he asked her.

"The black jeans, emerald shirt, and grey blazer," she answered promptly. Well, he had asked.

He looked at her doubtfully. When the two of them had gone clothes shopping before their election campaigns had begun in earnest, she had convinced him to expand his horizons, and buy some shirts of bright and varied colours. But he had been leery of wearing vibrant colours, almost as if he were reluctant to stand out. But Gail had persisted, and he had ended up buying the emerald green shirt, a violet one, a peach-coloured one, and a red one. He'd had to be prodded to wear them, but whenever Gail had asked him to, he'd put one on.

But now he was God, and like it or not, everyone was going to be looking at him, and looking up to him. So Cas draped the items of clothing she had named over his arm, and then he had popped them both down to the bunker without another word.

Bobby was already there, and Gail thought he must have warned the brothers that Cas wasn't himself, because the reception was cordial, but not as exuberant as it should have been. They had been down a similar road with him before.

Still, they asked about what had happened in Heaven, and the Angels gave them an abbreviated version. No one divulged any secrets that anyone had uttered in their presence.

"What did you do with those guys' bodies?" Dean asked Cas.

Oh. Right. In all the excitement, he'd forgotten. Cas waved his hand, and the three men disappeared from Chuck's office. Then he sent out The Eye, and he saw Patricia in her jail cell, rocking back and forth, staring blankly at the wall. He could just wave his hand again, right now, and obliterate her. He had the power now. He should just do it. Look at all of the terrible things she had done to him, and to Gail.

Cas looked at his wife. The drug that had been in that needle was interacting with the piousness that he'd felt when the light of God had coursed through his body. He still loved Gail, of course, but the paradigm had shifted now. He was the Lord God. He had to be all things to all people, and he had to have the strength of his convictions. As his wife, Gail would certainly be allowed to have her own opinions. But, his word was The Word.

"I will go and change clothing now," Cas announced. He took the clothes he had brought from Heaven down the hall as the others exchanged uneasy glances.

"Is he crazy now, Bobby?" Dean asked their friend once Cas was gone.

Bobby was thoughtful. "No, Dean. I know what crazy looks like, and that ain't it. Sam?"

Sam nodded in agreement. Dean's brother knew a little bit about being crazy, too. "He doesn't seem like he's off his rocker, he's just...different," Bobby continued.

"But the drug should work its way out of his system, right? Just like when he was here before, when the guards were here. He was in pretty bad shape when we first came down, but the more time he spent here, the more normal he became," Gail said reasonably.

Cas suddenly appeared back in the room, dressed in his Earthly clothes again. "You realize that I can hear every word you're saying, right?" he said to his friends. "I am God, remember?" He looked at Dean. "I put that other outfit back in the closet."

"What's going on with you, Cas?" Dean said, watching him closely.

Cas pulled up a chair and sat down beside his friend. "What do you mean?" Cas asked him.

"You're acting all weird," Dean told him. "Why aren't you sitting over there, beside Gail? You two should be holding hands and making googly eyes at each other by now. Everything worked out great, didn't it?"

Cas looked at him calmly, and then he looked at Gail. "I don't see the point, Dean," Cas said.

"What do you mean, you don't see the point?" Dean said irritably.

"Why does it matter where I sit?" Cas said, expressionless.

"Because you guys are married, and the two of you get all lovey-dovey with each other, and you drive us crazy, and that's the way it's supposed to be!" Dean said angrily.

Cas looked coolly at Gail. "I am sure my wife understands that I have much loftier pursuits now," he said.

Gail was looking at him quizzically. "I'm not sure that I do," she said slowly. "Maybe you'd better explain it to me."

"Lust is a Sin," Cas said, frowning.

Lust?! He had to be kidding her with this. "How is our sitting together and holding hands Lust, Cas?" Gail asked him, astonished. "Or kissing, or even making love? We're married, and we love each other!"

"That's all very well and good, but there is a difference," he told her. "We will comport ourselves properly from now on."

Gail restrained herself from rolling her eyes, but just barely. She reminded herself that he had Patricia's chemical cocktail swimming around in his blood right now. Fine. They'd talk about it later.

But, somewhat surprisingly, Dean didn't want to let it go. "You're being an ass," he told Cas bluntly. "Just because you kiss your wife or hold her hand, that doesn't mean you're being 'improper'. Get over yourself. Think about how you're making Gail feel right now. You know what? I'll tell you the truth, here. I like to give you guys a hard time, but your marriage is what I look at whenever I need a reason to smile. Whenever I think about it, you two are my barometer for what love should really look like."

There was silence for a moment. "I think that's just about the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say," Gail said to Dean.

"Yeah, well, don't get too used to it," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Now that General Buzzkill here is the Head Honcho, I guess we all have to stay on his good side."

Dean looked at Cas, hoping to get a smile, or a rejoinder from him. But Cas was staring off into space.

"We must go," he said suddenly. The Angels disappeared from the bunker, as Sam and Dean looked at each other, puzzled. What the hell was going on now?

"Don't come any closer," Patricia said to them. She had an Angel blade in her hand, and she was pointing it at herself.

"What's going on here?" Cas demanded to know.

Todd was staring at him, open-mouthed. Last he saw, Cas was the prisoner, and he had been a drooling madman. Now he stood tall, eyes flashing, imbued with God's powers. And it was Patricia who was in jail, ranting and raving. Todd had gone into her cell to talk to her, to try to find out what the hell was going on, and she had surprised him by grabbing the Angel blade from his holster. He had violated the first rule of the jailhouse: never enter a cell without backup, with your weapon in plain sight. But Patricia was God, wasn't she? Or, so Todd had thought. Well, apparently not. Castiel was God now, the tables had turned, and Todd was toast. He tried to explain what had happened, but Castiel looked at him skeptically.

"So it is your story that she overpowered you, and took your weapon?" Cas asked Todd coolly. As Todd nodded vigorously, Cas barked a humourless laugh. "You're fired," he said curtly. "Get your things, and get out."

Todd left, and Cas, Bobby and Gail turned back to Patricia, who was still holding the knife. "Explain yourself," Cas snapped at Patricia.

"I don't want to live anymore," she said tonelessly. "I see Lucifer everywhere I look, all the time. I see him in your eyes, right now."

"No, what you see is your own guilt," Cas said coldly.

"I didn't ask for what happened to me," Patricia pleaded.

"Nor did I," Cas said in a clipped tone.

Bobby looked at Cas. "Why don't you wave your hand and take that knife away from her? Then, we can all talk calmly. You can see she's not in her right mind, Cas. How about a little compassion?"

"Interesting," Cas remarked. "Compassion. Where was her compassion for me, when she was keeping me prisoner here, drugging me, and telling me that I was a Sinner, who didn't deserve to have any love in my life? Where was her compassion for Gail, when my wife begged her to be allowed to visit me?"

Bobby had no answer for that. Still: "Take the knife, Cas."

"An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," Cas said by way of a reply. "Let her repent of her actions. Judge not, lest you be judged."

Bobby's eyes narrowed. How much of that was Cas, and how much was the drug? He took a couple of steps forward, towards Patricia. "Don't," she said shortly. Then she looked at Gail. "What would you do if you were in my place?" she asked Castiel's wife. "Woman to woman, what would you do?"

Gail was bewildered. What on Earth was Patricia talking about? Woman to woman? Then, suddenly, she understood. Lise had asked her the same thing in Paris. "Please give me the knife, Patricia," she said softly. "We'll ask the men to leave, and we'll talk about it. Woman to woman." She moved forward, slowly, and Patricia moved forward, turning the knife away from herself and towards Gail.

"No," Castiel said, putting his hand on Gail's arm, restraining her. And as soon as he did that, Patricia turned the knife back towards herself and plunged it into her own chest. Then she fell to the cell floor, dead.

A week passed, then two, and then finally, Gail couldn't take it anymore. She stormed over to Bobby's office to vent.

"Those drugs should have worked their way out of his system by now, Bobby!" she fumed. "But he's still the same. He's got the world's biggest stick up his butt, now. I've tried everything, Bobby. I tried to be patient, but, if anything, he's getting worse. I tried joking around with him, but he won't even crack a smile. Then I tried getting mad at him, but he said it doesn't matter if I'm angry. His word is The Word, and he knows what's best for all of us, because he's the Father. Then I told him he wasn't anybody's father, and that he was behaving like a giant ass, and do you know what he said to me then?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Bobby said wryly.

"He told me that his word was The Word, that he was God, and that I needed to obey him!" she shouted.

Bobby winced. "Then what happened?"

"Then I threw the Bible at him, as hard as I could, and then I stormed out of his office and came here."

"Well, I've heard of throwing the book at somebody, but this is ridiculous," Bobby quipped. "Did you get him with it, at least?"

She sighed, but her lips twitched. "Of course not. He's God. He just waved his pinky finger, and it floated down onto the desk." She sat back in her chair. "Bobby, what are we going to do?"

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I don't know that there's anything we CAN do, Gail. Besides the fact that he's God, which is kind of a biggie, it's not clear whether the power has just gone to his head again, or if it's deeper than that. Remember, Patricia drugged and brainwashed him for a few months. We don't really know what that did to his psyche. When I lost my marbles, once I got out of Lucifer's cage, it wasn't over. That's why I checked myself into that mental hospital. The mind is fragile, Gail."

"OK, well, we'll just do that, then," she said sarcastically. "We'll just check God into a mental hospital. Can you imagine? Half of the people there think they can see him, and the other half think they ARE him. Can you just imagine the 'Who's on first' conversation he'd have with the psychiatrists? 'How long have you had this delusion that you're God, Mr. Castiel?' 'It's not a delusion, I AM God.' Maybe he can stick his thumb into the water cooler and turn it into wine. It'd make the group therapy sessions a lot more fun, anyway."

"You're babbling," Bobby told her.

Gail sighed again. She knew. But the very notion was ridiculous. Although technically, Bobby had also been God when he had been -

Her mouth dropped open. "Crowley," she breathed.

"Huh?"

She sat up straight in her chair. "I'm an idiot! I can't believe I didn't think of this before! When you were in the mental hospital, Crowley cured you!"

Bobby stared at her. "That's right. He did. But I was mentally ill, Gail. There's no evidence that Cas is sick. He's just...different, now."

"That's b.s., Bobby," Gail retorted. "Of course he's crazy. How else would you explain how he's behaving?"

Bobby wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. He didn't necessarily agree with Gail on that score. She hadn't been around way back when, to see Cas ingesting all those souls from Purgatory, obliterating Raphael, and then turning to him and Sam and Dean, demanding that they get down on their knees and worship him as their new God. When the three of them had been in Patricia's cell, Cas had had that same look on his face. Bobby hadn't seen an ounce of compassion in Cas's eyes when Patricia had been holding that knife on herself. Cas could have waved one finger, just one measly finger, and made that knife disappear, yet he didn't. And while Bobby didn't blame Cas one bit for being angry at his treatment at Patricia's hands, two wrongs didn't make a right. Afterwards, Cas swore up and down that he had restrained Gail because he'd been afraid for her safety, and Gail had bought it. But Patricia had been looking at Gail with pleading eyes, and she had been turning the knife in her hand blade first, as a person would do who was handing over a sharp object to another person. But when Cas had stopped Gail from intervening, and then Patricia had turned the knife back on herself, Bobby was sure that he had seen a cold look of satisfaction on Cas's face, as Gail had turned away in despair.

"He won't even hold my hand anymore," Gail said now. "He doesn't kiss me, or hug me, or anything. He says he still loves me as much as ever, but there's nothing physical going on between us anymore. Nothing. And when I asked him why, he said we have to set an example for the rest of the Angels. Now does that sound like Cas to you?"

Bobby had to admit that it didn't. "But that still isn't evidence that he's crazy," he said uncomfortably. "He was an Angel for just about forever, Gail. You know what things were like under the old regime. Maybe he does just want to set a good example. It would be kinda weird for God to be going around Heaven, making out with his wife in the hallways. I always thought you two could dial it back a bit, anyway."

"Careful. The mood I'm in, I'm not above finding another Bible, and throwing it at YOUR head," she grumbled. But Gail had a bee in her bonnet now. Cas was crazy. Loco. Mishuggah. Anybody could see that. She didn't care what Bobby or anybody else said. She knew Cas the best. Crowley could cure him; she was sure of it. And he'd better, if he knew what was good for him. Her husband was God now. Maybe that Holy War idea Patricia had been alleging wouldn't be such a bad one after all, if Crowley refused to play ball.

"I'll see you, Bobby," she said, popping out of his office.

"I'm going down to see Sam and Dean," Gail told Cas. "I miss them."

"I know. They keep calling," Cas said. His head was down, and he was making notations in a file. There were stacks of files on the desk, and others on the floor next to him. Apparently, Patricia had let the paperwork end of the job slide, when she was busy drugging and torturing him.

Gail stood there looking at him for a moment. Normally, she would be teasing him now, maybe telling him that she was going to get him those glasses they'd joked about, or saying that Dean was going to call him a nerd if he spent too much more time doing paperwork. But there didn't seem to be much point any more. Cas was so serious, these days. At first, she'd kind of understood. He wanted to do a good job, and he'd been trying to get accustomed to the quick turnaround from prisoner to God. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to be supportive of a husband whose personality had so radically changed, and not for the better.

Cas looked up. "Are you waiting for me to give you my permission?"

Gail laughed shortly. "I'd accuse you of joking, if you had any discernible sense of humour these days."

Cas sighed. "What, then? Why are you upset with me?"

"Really? You don't know?" she retorted.

"No, I sincerely do not," he replied.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. "How about the fact that you refuse to even hold my hand anymore? How about the fact that you're always working? Barry and Tommy had a baby shower for Carolyn a couple of weeks ago, and you said you were too busy to go. They said they understood, but I know they were disappointed. When's the last time we went to Earth together? I can't even remember. The guys wanted to throw a party to celebrate you being God, but you keep putting them off."

"I don't have time for frivolity right now," Cas remarked. He gestured to the files. "As you can plainly see."

Gail pursed her lips. "What would you say if I asked you to wave your hand, and make all those files just disappear? Then you could take me by the hand, and we could go down to our house and visit Ralph for an hour or four, and then we could go and see Sam and Dean for a while. Or, we could all go to Frank's place. I'm sure he's been saving up about a million 'my brother-in-law is God' jokes. We could see little Angela. Apparently, those constant feedings are working, and she's already getting bigger. Wouldn't you prefer to do all of those things I just mentioned? Hell, I'd even take just one of them, at this point."

"What I would prefer is irrelevant," Cas said firmly. "I thought you understood what this job entailed."

"Can't you just take an hour off, then? We all miss you, Cas. I miss you. I need you," she pleaded with him.

He frowned. "I am doing my duty, Gail. You may visit our friends, if you like. Send them my regrets. I'm sure they will understand."

Unbelievable. She sighed. "Is there any room for negotiation, here? How about if we just make out for ten minutes, then?"

Cas's eyebrows raised. "Here? What you are talking about is blasphemy. I'm sure you think that you are being amusing, but you should mind what you are saying. As my wife, you have a responsibility to conduct yourself properly."

"Wow," she said softly. "If I closed my eyes, I could almost swear that I was talking to Xavier, or Patricia."

"There's no need to be insulting," he said, still frowning.

"Do you still love me, Cas?"

His expression softened. "Of course I do, Gail. I don't know why you would think otherwise. Go, and see our friends. I'm sure a nice visit with them will cheer you up." Then he bent his head to the files again.

Well, at least he still loved her, Gail thought wryly, or so he claimed. Thank goodness for small favours. "I'll see you later, Cas," she said. He nodded, but didn't look up. She sighed again, then popped out of the office.

"Where's Sam?" Gail asked Dean, once she'd popped down to the bunker.

"He's over at Quinn's, trying to make nice," Dean said, making a face.

"What's the matter? I thought you liked Quinn," she remarked.

"I do. It's just...never mind," he said, shrugging. "Anyway, how are you? How's His Holiness? He pass a Commandment against laughing in the hallways yet?"

Now it was Gail's turn to make a face. "You think you're being funny, but you're really not," she said sourly. She was silent for a moment, and then she said, "I can't stand it anymore, Dean. That's it. I'm doing it."

Dean shook his head. "You realize that's the stupidest idea ever, right?" He knew what he was talking about, of course. After Gail's initial conversation with Bobby on the subject, she'd sat on it for a while. But then, she had broached the subject again with both Dean and Sam, and they had both agreed with Bobby. She hadn't liked that, of course. Gail had this habit of fishing around, trying to drum up support for her point of view on a particular issue. Then, if she couldn't get that, she would just browbeat you until you gave in, just to shut her up. But then, if you still wouldn't give in, she would simply shut you out, and stubbornly proceed, anyway. This was an attitude which yielded mixed results, but ultimately, Dean really couldn't say too much about it. After all, it was due to that same attitude of hers that Dean was even sitting here today. Her own husband had been so opposed to her use of Rowena's spell book to revive Dean that Dean had no idea what would have happened to her and Cas's marriage if Cas hadn't given in to her. Sam said it had been pretty intense there for a while. It was a good thing Cas wasn't God back then, or Dean would probably be just a distant memory by now. These days, Cas was a humourless workaholic, with a crucifix up his butt. Dean had tried to talk to him about lightening up, the couple of times that Cas had deigned to come to Earth, but it was no use. Maybe that was what being God did to people; Dean didn't know. He didn't remember Bobby being like that. Then again, Bobby quit, didn't he? The pressures of the job must be almost unimaginable. Everybody praying to you for everything, looking at you to solve all their problems. Billions upon billions of Angels under you, all looking up to you. Being blamed for each and everything that went wrong, big or small. And Bobby didn't have the kind of history that Cas did. Despite arguably being God's favourite, Cas had all the weight of his prior screw-ups sitting heavily on his shoulders every time he sat his butt down in God's chair. So Dean guessed it was understandable that his friend was getting a little carried away by the crushing responsibility of it all. But it was a shame, really. Pure and simple, Dean missed his friend. So what if Cas was a little different these days? Dean had hung around with many different versions of Cas before, and so had Gail.

But Gail had insisted that there was a lot more to it than that. She was convinced that whatever had been in those shots that Patricia had been giving Cas, plus the Godly power that was in him now, along with the ingrained reverence he had for the sanctity of the Office, had all combined the create some kind of religious mania in Cas's skull. And while Dean couldn't say that she was altogether wrong, he wasn't convinced that it was exactly a good idea to go to Crowley for help about it. In fact, Dean pretty much thought it was the dumbest, most cockamamie thing she had ever come up with. He'd told her so when she'd first broached the idea to him and Sammy, and he was telling her so again now.

"I don't know what else to do, Dean," Gail said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "All I know is I need him back, the way he used to be. He claims he still loves me, but he hasn't shown me one bit of physical affection since he became God. Not one bit."

"I don't wanna hear about that kind of stuff, Gail," Dean said uncomfortably.

"Well, you know what? You're going to hear about it!" she exclaimed. "I need somebody to talk to about this, or I'm going to go crazy!"

"Then why don't you talk to Liz, or Frank?"

"Oh, right. I'm gonna talk to my brother about my sex life," she said sarcastically. She had actually tried to talk to Liz, but since Liz didn't know Cas all that well, she hadn't been a very big help. Gail wasn't merely looking for support, she was looking for a solution.

She sighed. "It's not even necessarily about sex, Dean. It's about affection, and intimacy. And even as I'm saying this, I realize you probably have no idea what I'm even talking about."

"You might be surprised," he said softly. "Just because my girlfriend is a world traveler who I never get to see any more doesn't mean that I don't have any feelings, you know."

"OK, well, good," she said, a little awkwardly. Every now and then, Dean could still surprise her. "And it's not just that, though I admit that's a part of it. But, if we let him go on this way, I don't know what'll happen, Dean. He just gave me a lecture about 'conducting myself properly'. And he wasn't teasing, either. He was serious. But, even if we take sex off the table, why won't he kiss me, or even hold my hand? No, there's something really wrong here, Dean."

"Fine," Dean retorted, "but even if that's true, you wanna go to the King of Hell, and ask him to siphon the crazy juice out of God? Don't you think THAT'S just a little bit Crazy Town?"

Gail nodded slowly. "Ordinarily, I'd say you're right. But I'll tell you something else, and what I'm about to say can't leave this room. OK? Promise me."

"Yeah, OK, Gail," Dean said, frowning. "What is it?"

"He wants to open up a whole bunch more Academies in Heaven, and he talked about maybe having a few here on Earth, too. He wants to train a whole lot more Angels how to fight," she told him.

"So? That's good, isn't it?" Dean said. "Haven't you guys been saying for a long time now that you want the Angels to learn how to fight?"

"Not if they're being used to form Armies," she said pointedly. "And not if you're thinking about using those Armies to start a Holy War."

Dean's mouth dropped open. "No way."

Gail's frown deepened. "He told me he's considering it. Now do you see why we have to do something?"

"So basically, you're talking about treason, here," Dean said bluntly. "You're gonna go tell Crowley that Cas is suiting up?"

"No!" Gail said, horrified. "I would never do that! Besides that fact that it would be betraying Cas, it would be suicide! If Crowley decided that a pre-emptive strike was the best strategy, I can't even imagine what would happen. Unless we did have that Army, we'd be easy pickings for him right now. Remember how dicey things were, the year of the death squads?"

"So why are you even talking about Crowley like he's an option, then?" Dean asked her.

"Because I'm desperate," Gail said sadly. "Because I don't know what else to do. Because I can't just sit by and watch my husband spin out of control."

"Does Crowley even know Cas is God now?" Dean inquired.

"Yes, of course he knows," she said, rolling her eyes. "He always knows. I went to see him after that whole mess with Patricia, and he was being an ass, as usual. Asked me if Cas and I were going to have a party celebrating Patricia's demise. Telling me he'd roll out the red carpet in Hell for her when she got there, so she could join the other members of Cas's fan club who were already down there. He seemed to think the whole thing was just hilarious. Then he asked me if we were going to take the mattress from our bed, put it on her grave, and have sex on it! I told him that kind of so-called humour was disgusting, and besides, it was beneath him. And to never say anything like that to me again, or I was going to call Cas down to the crossroads so he could repeat that 'joke' to him, and then I would stand back and watch the show. Then I gave him his Angel blade back, and told him he was damn lucky it wasn't a Demon blade." She smiled grimly. "I guess he didn't like that very much, 'cause he didn't have much to say after that."

"You gave him back his Angel blade?" Dean said, incredulous. "Are you sure it's your husband who's nuts?"

Gail sighed. "I know. But, say what you will, I did owe him for lending it to me in the first place. Besides, he's an old-school kind of guy, Dean, like Cas is. I keep thinking that, if I deal with him honourably, he'll return the favour. And he actually has given me a lot of leeway in the past."

"Yeah, right. Like kidnapping you and Frank, killing him, and turning him into a Knight of Hell? Like being an evil, scheming pain in our ass since, like, forever?" Dean retorted.

"OK, you're right about all that stuff. But think of all the times he could have killed me, and he didn't?" Gail said. "For that matter, he's had umpteen million chances to kill any number of us, and he hasn't done it. And he helped us with the Tablet missions."

"Any time that guy does anything, it's because there's something in it for him," Dean said grumpily. "Every time. You'd better not ever forget that, Gail. I don't want you seeing him by yourself again, okay? Now that Cas is God, you're a valuable commodity to Crowley. Think with your head, Gail, not with your ass."

She smiled, standing from her chair. "What I'm actually hearing you say right now is that you love me very much, and you care about my safety," she said to him.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean stood too, grumbling good-naturedly. "Damn Angels." He opened his arms. "Come on, bring it in." Gail came forward for her hug, laying her head on his chest. "We'll figure something out, Gail. I promise," Dean assured her, giving her a squeeze.

She nodded, but even as she hugged him, Gail wondered what that could possibly be.

"Tell Carolyn congratulations, from all of us," Jody said to Tommy on the phone. "Tell her to call me, as soon as she feels up to it. And send us pictures, too. That way, when Frank inundates you with pictures of Angela, it won't seem so obnoxious."

Frank smiled. "What's the little guy's name?" he asked.

"Peter," Tommy replied. "She wanted a name from the Bible, but we convinced her to make it something a bit more kid-friendly, so he doesn't get beaten up when he goes to school."

"They do that in Canada, too?" Jody wisecracked.

"They do that everywhere," Tommy said, rolling his eyes. "So, how are Cas and Gail doing?"

Jody and Frank exchanged glances. "They're OK, I guess," Frank said. "We haven't really seen very much of them. Gail came by briefly, after all of that terrible stuff with Patricia happened. She said that Cas had lots to do, to fix everything that Patricia did when she was God. I guess that woman was too busy screwing with him and Gail to worry about doing her job right. Cas has to work overtime just to compensate for that, and Gail is helping him. So, we just have to be a little patient. Sam's birthday is coming up in a month. We'll all get together then."

"OK, you guys, sounds good," Tommy said. "Give everyone our love."

"Back at you," Jody said, smiling. She hung up the phone and looked at her husband, her smile fading. "I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth," Jody said.

Frank frowned. But, what WAS the truth, exactly?

Another couple of weeks passed, and Gail was really afraid now. Cas had opened up dozens of Academies in Heaven, and he had the designated Angels teaching, as well as all of the Angels who had graduated from the original Academy. In a much-contested move, he'd even made Pamela an instructor. Scott's sister had ostensibly recovered from her head injury. Gail was watching her closely, though. Pamela had been behaving herself, but Gail wasn't convinced that the girl's apologies to herself and Cas had been genuine. On the one hand, Gail supposed that there was no reason for Pamela to scheme against them anymore. It was evident now that the brother and sister team had been sent by Patricia to mess with the couple during the campaign. But Scott was dead now, and Cas was God. Unless Pamela had revenge for her brother's murder on her mind. But the young Angel had been properly respectful whenever she talked to Heaven's First Couple, and Cas had told Gail that he needed all the instructors he could get.

"Why?" she asked him. "What's the urgency?"

He looked at her expressionlessly. "I should think that would be obvious."

"Let's just pretend I'm stupid, then," she said tartly. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

He stared at her for a few moments, and then he said, "It's time, Gail. I sat back for centuries while Crowley built his Kingdom. While he kept torturing and killing us, time and time again. He shows up here with his suits and his smugness, thinking he can just do whatever he wants, and I'll look the other way because he's my brother. He killed me at the time of Creation, and then I killed him in that den to free you, and he thinks that makes us even. But it doesn't, Gail. We vanquished Lucifer, and now, it's time we vanquish Crowley. He has been allowed to operate unchecked for way too long. All of those Demons and all of those lowlifes who killed all those innocent people during the year of the death squads are in Hell under his purview. He talks about 'numbers' and 'meetings' and such, as if he were running a corporation. A business. But his business is Evil, and he's gathering his armies, even as we speak."

"Do you know that for a fact, Cas?" she asked him pointedly. "Or are you just saying that, so you can justify starting that Holy War?"

He looked at her coolly. "He has kidnapped you, killed your brother, and kept him in Hell until I released him. He has committed unspeakable acts against us. He burned you at the stake when you were Guinevere, he stabbed you to death at the Chelsea Hotel, and he made a deal when you and I sailed to the New World on Mayflower, to curse us for all eternity. Yet, you take up for him as if he wouldn't just snap his fingers and then snap your neck, if it suited his purposes. What is the reason? When we thought that the Demon delusion was real, I thought it was the blood bond that you and he shared, and I blamed myself for that. But now, we know that none of that ever happened, so I repeat: what possible reason could you have to take up for him now? Why should you not rejoice at his death, and the fall of his Kingdom? We will slay them all, and then, the righteous shall rule. That is the way it should be. That is the way it WILL be."

Gail looked at him with sad eyes. The thing was, she couldn't really dispute anything he was saying. Crowley HAD done all those things. The only thing that was news to her was the fact that Fergus had arranged to curse them back at the time of the Mayflower, but that didn't really even surprise her. For all of Crowley's railing at Cas's temper, Gail knew that he also had one of his own. It was usually carefully hidden under the suits, the charm, and the uppity English accent, but it was there. Gail had seen it, first-hand. He was petty, and he was vindictive. He had been angry with Priscilla for leaving and sailing off to America with John, and so he had thrown a temper tantrum. Didn't surprise her one bit. And Cas probably knew about that now because he was God, and God knew pretty much everything.

But one thing that Cas didn't seem to know was that, if he started a Holy War with Crowley, there really wouldn't be any winners. Even putting aside the philosophical question of whether Evil needed to exist to balance Good, or vice versa, Gail was reminded of the election campaign, and the debates. Patricia had been alleging that Cas would start a Holy War with Crowley the moment he took the Office, and that he would use young Angels to feed his war machine. And Gail had dismissed those claims as being patently ridiculous at the time. But now, those very things seemed to be coming to pass. Why had Patricia emphasized that notion? Was she just trying to stir things up? Or, and this was just occurring to Gail now: Had Patricia programmed Cas to do what he was currently proposing, when they'd had their little sessions in that jail cell, just the two of them? Had this been Patricia's endgame all along?

Crowley sat at his desk, sipping at a drink. He was wondering what Castiel was thinking right now. If he were in his Brother's place, he would be conscripting every Angel, male and female, young or old, to get ready to mobilize. That was what Crowley had been doing, after all. But, it had been a bit of a slog. Demons were inherently hedonistic and lazy, and torture didn't seem to motivate most of them, for some strange reason. But Crowley had persisted, developing a business model that actually included employee recognition, and bonuses for exemplary performance. Like it or not, apparently Evil for Evil's sake simply wasn't enough anymore. Well, that was all right. Never let it be said that the King of Hell was reluctant to move with the times. So, even though he still employed torture for the most recalcitrant of employees, for the most part, his subjects were willingly on board now.

But, the question was: When should he mobilize, if at all? Crowley was playing chess with Castiel now, even if Castiel was nowhere to be seen. He would be a fool to underestimate his brother. Or Gail, for that matter. Crowley cursed himself. He should have just stayed out of it. Everything had been just fine, from his point of view. Patricia had been God, and that had been just fine with him. When they'd had that "summit" before the election, Crowley had known that Patricia was off her nut. He knew crazy when he saw it. But she had said that she wanted nothing to do with Hell. Never the twain, and all that. And she had meant it. While Castiel and all the sad sacks had been having their pity party after the election, Patricia had marched into the High Office, called Crowley on the Hotline, and basically told him to piss off, then ripped the phone off its moorings. Crowley could respect that. Then he had started to hear rumours about all of the restrictive edicts being issued from Heaven's High Office, and he had been reminded of that woman in the book series about the boy wizard, who had swept in and put her pink stamp of oppression on the place, and he had been highly amused. And the day he had found out that Patricia had prohibited even the chaste practice of hand-holding in Heaven, Crowley had laughed out loud for a full minute, a personal best for him. Then, he had pictured his brother and his sister-in-law's faces when they'd heard about that particular edict, and then he had laughed again.

Then had come the sweet day when Crowley had found out that Castiel had been locked up in Heaven's jail for murder. It was a good thing that Demons didn't suffer from hangovers, because Crowley had celebrated with carafe after carafe of his finest scotch that night. But he'd known that the situation was too good to last. Castiel was made of stronger stuff than that, and so was Gail. He may have cursed the couple all those years ago, but within the framework of all of eternity, their torment always seemed to be fleeting. You could try to drown them, but sooner or later, they always came bobbing back up to the top of the water. Metaphorically speaking.

And so that had happened this time too, of course. But not before their people had come to see Crowley, and wonder of wonders, Gabriel had been with them. They had asked Crowley to intervene, but he had been unable. He was telling the truth about that. Patricia'd had the powers of the Office then, or most of them, at least. Crowley did know things he had no business knowing, and that fact was one of them. For some reason, Patricia hadn't received as many of God's powers as Bobby or Castiel had. Whether that was just sexism, or whether it was because Father still had a hand in things and had known that Patricia was a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic, was unclear. But in any event, it hadn't mattered in the end. Patricia had been Heaven's choice, but she had been the wrong choice, and she had been sorted out. Crowley felt nothing for her. Unlike the Angels, he knew exactly what had happened between Patricia and Lucifer in that Office on that day. Lucifer had told Crowley about it, in great and unnecessary detail. But the KIng of Hell had never told anyone what he knew. Why should he? It was none of his concern. Maybe, just maybe, if Bobby had been elected, Crowley might have told him. For reasons. But it hadn't happened that way, and Crowley had no regrets.

But when that group had come to see him, Gabriel had thrown Crowley for a loop when he had said that Rowena and Raguel were seeing each other. Crowley had honestly had no idea. Perhaps he had been too busy keeping an eye on the elections process in Heaven and preparing his own Armies to keep much of an eye on Earth, as well. But what Gabriel had said at their meeting had struck a chord with Crowley. He'd meant it when he'd said that he didn't believe for a second that his mother and Raguel were having a romance. No; the two of them were conspiring about something. But what? Was Rowena going to help Raguel find the books? If so, Crowley had better align himself with another Archangel to regain the balance of power, and Gabriel was the only other one around. However, Crowley had genuinely been unable to help them at that time. But then, when Gail had called from the bunker, advising that she had busted Castiel out of prison and she and Gabriel were determined to keep her husband out, Crowley had answered the call. He'd wanted to demonstrate to Gabriel that he was up for a little quid pro quo.

But how was Crowley supposed to have anticipated that Castiel would not only succeed in breaking out of prison, but overcome his mental issues and become God, all in the space of just a few short hours? And, that his Brother would then begin to amass his own Armies, with the notion of starting a Holy War? Crowley usually thought about ten steps ahead on the chessboard, but now Castiel had set fire to the board, and had suddenly started playing Risk. And, even though Gail had heretofore led Castiel around by his nose, or by that other part of his anatomy that men so frequently surrendered to the women they loved, as of yet, Gail had been unable to budge her husband from his religious convictions. A fact which would have normally raised Crowley's respect for his Brother, if it wasn't for the fact that those convictions could end up costing Crowley his Kingdom. Or, more importantly, his life.

Mobilize, or not? Was the pre-emptive strike the way to go, or should the King of Hell reach out to the King and Queen of Heaven, before it was too late? Door Number One, or Door Number Two? The lady, or the tiger?

Crowley poured himself another drink.

\- END OF BOOK 29. -


End file.
